Thank you, everyone, for your comments, notes, flowers, thoughts, texts, and phone calls. It was really sweet of you, and we appreciate it. We’re doing better. Fewer tearful breakdowns (although we had one yesterday – the vet sent us some of her fur wrapped in a bow and her paw prints on cards, along with personal notes from most of the staff who knew her), more funny memories. In the aftermath, we’ve found that we’re transferring all of our attentions and worries to Riley, with lots of running and walks, and constant concern over how he’s doing (“Does he look sad?” “He always looks sad.”) and whether he’s eating enough. He sleeps upstairs now, on his dog bed, and we (maybe a little more me than we) keep finding excuses to take him places with us.
We’ve put away her stuff, for the most part, but we still have it all. Her dog bed stays downstairs for Riley during the day. Her toys are still scattered all over the first floor. Her leash and collar are still hanging in the hall closet. Her food bowl is with her medicine in the cabinet. We will eventually throw out the medicine and the plastic food bowl and the chewed up toys, and we’ll box up her leash and collar. I don’t know when. I’m not in any hurry.