Two days after the Great Salford Swim Benji died. His tumor had been growing, and he was struggling with walking, but we then had an added complication in that he stopped eating. We had arranged to take him to the vet for a check-up, but as he was clearly deteriorating we asked her to come to us. We then had to make the agonising decision to have him put to sleep. The tumour had spread, his liver was swollen, he was clearly struggling and yet it was still so difficult, to have to choose to end his life. We've none of us recovered yet. He was with us for six years and he became part of the fabric of our family life. Everywhere I look in the house there are memories and associations. I'd love to say that I could feel his presence, that I had a sense of him watching over us, but dead is dead and our time together is over.
When a dog dies the loss is so immediate and intense. There are none of the bureaucratic and administrative diversions, death certificates, funerals to arrange etc. There's just an empty space.
It's taken me so long to publish this post. I couldn't bring myself to complete it, to let go and say that he's gone. I've read a lot of philosophy this year, and taken a lot of comfort in others' struggles to make sense of life, and death. I still don't know, and I've realised how much I value not knowing, if there's anything more than this, these few moments we spend living. Benji dying was an awful and inevitable experience, and yet it was worth going through for the 6 years that he chose to spend with us.
