Still sad, but currently functional

I'm pretty sure this is the last picture taken of Zelda.  My sons used to blow off walking her if they could get away with it, so when I was gone from the house I would have them take pictures of her in the yard and send them to me as proof that they walked her.

Many thanks to the people who sent kind messages via comment, email, facebook & twitter.  I appreciate them very much.  And thank you so much to Spyder for coming by.  Every person who loves a breed of dog knows that their one breed is more special than all the others.  Unless you have loved one and lost it you don't understand what special dogs (insert breed here) are.  My breed is the great dane.  Spyder understands my pain because she's been there.  

Some things are hard and will be hard for a while yet.  Coming home is one of those things.  When you enter our house you are faced with two choices - up the stairs to the living room, or down the stairs to the kitchen.  Zelda used to wait on the top step, so as you came up the stairs you were face to face with her.  Unless she had been up to mischief while we were out, then she was nowhere to be found.  Yesterday when I came home I had the brief thought of "what has she been up to"  Then I remembered why she wasn't at the top of the stairs.  Another thing that's hard is not tripping over her on midnight visits to the bathroom.  It's odd what you miss and notice.  

The suddenness of it has been perhaps the most devastating.  When Bear died I knew it was coming.  He had cancer and was 13.  When Stinky dies I won't be surprised.  He's very old and kinda looks like a zombie most days.  (scaly skin, patchy fur)  But with Zelda she wasn't old or sick - she was strong with muscle and a shiny coat.  I had no time to prepare myself for what was to come.    I know now that Zelda had gotten to most of a pizza that wasn't out of her reach.  (out of her reach didn't really exist)  She must have gulped it down fast in order to eat it before getting caught.  Add to that the fact that she had a wheat allergy and you have a lot of gas building up in an animal prone to bloat.  It's going to be awhile before I can eat pizza again.

Despite the great weather I didn't end up opening on Friday.  I finished packing up the storage room and then sat down.  Dan couldn't watch the store and I was pretty much non functional.  I put a note on the door that said

My dog died

I am sad

The store is closed today.

Dan & Teddy didn't approve of the note, and Susi said that while it was not professional, it was reflective of who I am generally.  I say "Hi", not "Hi, how are you?" unless I really am interested in how you are.  I could have put a note on the door that said any number of things, but the simple truth is what seemed right to me.  

On Sunday I checked the mail box for the first time since Friday and found a couple of very sweet notes from people who had come by the shop.  Not people I knew, but strangers who took the time out to say something nice.  It made me feel better about people than I often do.

As the title says, I'm still sad, but I am pretty much functional.  I'm dealing with my grief the way I deal with everything.  I make stuff.  I should be getting ready to paint this place - but I'm not going to.  I would just do an awful job of it right now.  I gave up organizing after I knocked over the 3rd box of small beads and stuff.  I just put it all away and will pay Tommy to do it later this week.  I'm going to make stuff.  Creating is how I deal with grief.  It's also how I express joy.  I find a focus & peace when I am making stuff that eludes me much of the time.  

Again thank you to everyone who took time to reach out to me.  It helped.