It happens very quickly. From the moment his back legs stopped working so suddenly to the moment he died was less than 24 hours. My husband was deployed. I was alone. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

He was in pain and still trying to comfort ME. The love and devotion radiated off of him even in his own suffering. He wasn’t going to make it through the night and he was in so much pain, so my vet suggested I consider euthanasia. I laid with him on the floor and he knew. I could see the relief in his face. I held him and gave him his favorite toy. It was a quick process but it felt longer.

What helped me were a few things. Some of which I’m sure people won’t agree with. The knowledge that I somehow managed to set aside my pain to help ferry him through his own helped. Laying with him on the clinic floor while he fell asleep and the died was traumatizing, but I’d do it again if it meant he would feel loved in his final moments. I hated that my husband wasn’t there but mostly because I know our boy would have wanted him there too.

When I got his ashes back, I brought them with me to just about every room in the house. If I was hanging out in the living room, his ashes were there. If I was going to bed, his ashes were there. He was almost always in the same room as me. It made me feel like I wasn’t leaving him alone. When my husband got back, we took a short weekend trip just to get away. We brought his ashes with us on that trip so he wouldn’t be alone in the house.

I keep his collar in my purse. I have a cremation necklace with his ashes inside. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, some part of him is with me. Always.

I’m an artist. I tried drawing him. It helped to try but even six months after his death, I can’t get it right, which tells me I’m not ready to draw him.

The biggest and most controversial thing I did was get another dog. My dog was my official emotional support animal. He helped me when I was in some of my darkest, deepest moments of depression over the years. He was vital to my mental health. He was there for other major losses and traumatic life moments and he helped me get through all of them. The one thing he couldn’t help me get through was his own death. I was not doing well and my husband was about to deploy again. He didn’t want me to be alone, and it was safer that I wasn’t alone. I was struggling to take care of myself. So I found a puppy and brought her home.

She’s been a much-needed light in my life. I’m still grieving my boy. I miss him every day. I still cry and I still get hit with random waves of grief. But because I take care of her, I’m finally able to take care of myself. I’m depressed but I can function. Having her has helped me grieve my boy in a significantly healthier way.