It's been a week since I lost my best buddy. I know 17 years is a good, long life for a dog, but I just wasn't ready. It was so sudden. I thought he was fine the day before and then he just wasn't anymore. I can't bring myself to pick up any of his things yet. But I keep just going over that day in my mind and wondering about anything I may have missed him telling me. Was it the move we just made? Me being late giving him his medicine the day before because my dryer broke and I was late getting home? Did the heating pad I turned on for him make him worse? I know I shouldn't blame myself, but it's just so hard when I miss him so much to think I could've/should've done something different/better. I also feel bad for my other dog. I feel bad that having her here makes it a little easier to get up and go on. It's like loving her takes away from how much I loved and miss him. But she doesn't deserve to be loved any less. Im just heartbroken and I feel like everyone thinks I should be ok by now. But I'm not. And I just don't know if I ever really will be again. - Human
