My dog is dying

UPDATE: Zoey passed on January 4, 2025 at about 2:00pm ET. It was a sunny day, she had way too much pickled herring (her favorite!) and she was at peace. She was 14 years, 7 months old.

My dog is dying and my soul doesn’t know where to rest.

I was listening to The Pretty Reckless as I was writing this, 🎶Twenty-five and still alive🎶 ... 🎶Twenty-one, two, three, four🎶 and I realized I could visualize clearly who I was when I was 21...22...23... but struggled to have clear memories of the past forty years.

Yet, here I obviously am, gotten here one day at a time, all these years, one day at a time.

I thought about anther twenty years into the future, if I’m lucky, though life expectancy says I probably have ten, and I can’t remember anything specific about the past four other than I used to take 2-3 hour long walks with Zoey and just get lost with myself. But that isn’t ever going to happen again as she is very old and sleeps all day now.

I don’t know what eventually will kill me, but I know for sure I’m dying of a broken heart that hurts beyond measure. I can’t take in another dog knowing she will probably outlive me and die of a broken heart, thinking her best friend abandoned her.