I was 27 years old when I got married 10 years ago. My husband and I lived in the city of Chicago... and then the suburbs.. and then back to the city... and then to Arizona... We were always on to a new adventure searching for fun and excitement. We were still figuring out who we were and what our life together would look like. We were both working very hard at corporate jobs trying to prove ourselves in hopes of getting the next promotion. We loved meeting for happy hours after work, going out on weekend nights and sleeping in late every Sat and Sun. We moved a lot. We went on trips. We made decisions on a whim. We basically did whatever we wanted. Our biggest responsibility was our pets. The plan for our 10 year anniversary was always to go on an African Safari. It would be the trip of a lifetime full of thrill and adventure. It would be extraordinary . And I think at that time in our life we wanted...
It's been a week since we rushed to the emergency vet with the most loving, loyal, furry friend we could ever have. I've known we were nearing the end of his life for some time. I spent a lot of time worrying about it over the last few months. Would I be strong enough to let him go when the time came? He had a progressive heart disease so I had talked to the vet about what to look out for many times and had read the same articles on the internet over and over again. I knew his life was getting harder and I had whispered to him that if he needed to let go, it was ok. I didn't want him to be in pain. I would miss him terribly but I would be ok. Now I'm struggling to hold up my end of that bargain. I really want to be ok but there is no quick fix to make this pain go away. In the end things went down hill very abruptly and quickly that night and the decision to make him comfortable was not hard. We were told this was the end and we...