Tomorrow I'm Losing Another Part of My Family

If I was an old dude back in 2024 when it was Zoe's last day, then I'm an older and sadder dude now making this post.

Tomorrow is Tia's last day. She is a 13-year-old Bichon mix. Tia joined the family because we thought Zoe (another Bichon) needed a companion. We rescued Tia from a puppy farm. I drove from Michigan to Ohia to pick her up, and she rode back in a cardboard box in the back seat with my right hand reaching into the back and resting on her all the way in order to make her feel safe. (No, not the safest way to drive a long distance.)

Tia loved Zoe...but not so much the other way around. So, that part of the plan backfired. Tia never gave up trying, though. We had two round dog beds in the living room, each the right size for one dog. Tia would often climb into Zoe's bed with her, literally on top of Zoe.

Tia saved my wife and I once. We were camping, in a camper, and it was getting towards bedtime. The gas stove somehow got left on (no flame, just gas) and she was just going crazy and being over-the-top annoying until I finally figured out what it was.

As with Zoe, time has not been kind to Tia. It rarely is, to any of us. Her vision is failing. Her hearing is failing. She gets up and walks in circles in the bedroom in the middle of the night. She forgets where we are and goes searching through the house. Several weeks ago her back legs were seemingly paralyzed. Since then she's recovered the use of them, but something is still hurting her (though not all the time).

While I want to keep her around as long as possible, that is just me being selfish. She is starting to suffer, and I don't want her last days to be ones of pain and misery. So, tomorrow, Thursday, the mobile vet is coming to the house and Tia won't suffer anymore.

I decided this about two weeks ago, and -- also as with Zoe -- everyday since then, usually on the drive to/from work, I end up crying. I am crying right now as I write this. Tia has been an amazing part of the family and my life and I am heartbroken at having to say goodbye to her.

I don't know what I will do on Friday morning when I wake up and she is not right there, wagging her tail. Or Friday afternoon when I get back from work and she is not waiting at the door when I walk through it. Or every other day after that.

I love you, Tia. Thank you for loving me back. I hope that, come Friday, when I can't find you...that you can find Zoe.