I am so sorry about your precious baby, Margaux. Don't blame yourself. She knows how much you loved her, don't doubt that. Wished there was something I could do to ease your pain. Sending you hugs,
So, so sorry to hear about the loss of your beautiful baby. You always feel like you should have seen it coming or you could have done something to stop it, but know you gave her the best home any fur baby could hope for.
Hopefully you and Celia are able to bring each other comfort.
:'( So sorry Patty! I wish I could do something to help you through this...but I know I can only be here for you and read your stories about Margaux when you are ready to share them. Like Mocha, she passed in her favourite bed from her entire life with you...a nice comforting place that I am sure they both had many fond memories of. That she choose her favourite bed tells you how much she loved you and that she went peacefully. I am sure her spirit is still there for you...and she will soon send you signs. It's hard now...do what you need to do in order to help yourself. Take care of yourself and remember your Margaux with love.
Thanks again so much, to all of you. It's so unbelievably touching to see this kind of support from people I've never met. Please know that I am eternally grateful and so comforted by your kind words.
Celia has been looking very sad. Like with me, it seems to be getting harder, as the days go by and we realize that Margaux still isn't back yet from wherever she went. Celia has spent the last couple of days sitting in her usual spot on the back of the couch, just sitting, wide awake, as if listening for signs that Margaux's finally back. They were never best friends, but they did live together for 13 years. I wish I could explain why Margaux's not here, but I guess she's starting to understand that she's not coming back.
I really can't imagine what it would be like if I didn't have Celia.
I don't know if Mr. Casper knows something's wrong. Margaux seemed afraid of him once we moved here - maybe because her sense of smell wasn't good - so she didn't spend much time out in the porch when he was there. But she knew he was never around in the morning, so even on Friday morning, the minute she heard me head towards the porch, she followed me for a little outside time. She loved nothing more than being outside. She never believed me when I told her it was too cold, and she was so stubborn and so proud that she would never turn around and come right back in the way Celia does. The only concession she'd make to the cold was to do a speed version of her daily tour of her territory. And she never ever hurried. Just a slow, leisurely "see, I'm not cold at all" pace. Silly girl.
Spirite, I can see how it feels like it's getting harder because it was such a shock. You had no time to prepare yourself emotionally, like you said she was fine before dinner and you thought you had another year together. It probably took a few days to fully sink in so it hurts more as days go on, but I am sure that in time your heart will heal. Same with Celia, times where the two would cross paths during the routine are going to remind her of her lost buddy. It might a even more delayed for her since she doesn't know what really happened. Thankfully she has you to comfort her and I'm sure your babies are comforting you now.
Oh Spirite, I had trouble reading through the opening post, through my tears. What a beautiful tribute.
Celia being sick had to be exceptionally difficult with your heart so recently broken.
I'm at a loss for words, just know how much I wish you peace.
Thanks to all of you for your sympathy and support. It's really so comforting, and I'm very grateful.
Every night Margaux gets a little package of head and cheek scratches, ear rubs, and little brush-brushes on her chin. The chin was the only place she tolerated the little flea comb, probably because the acne was itchy. When the comb hit the right spot, she'd put her paw on my hand to stop it, then rub her chin against it. If I tried to move the comb, she'd put her paw on my hand again. She was bossy. She'd also redirect my fork, which was en route to my mouth, to her nose so she could decide whether what was on it would be worth eating.
I have her ashes in a little box on the coffee table. On top of the box, there's a picture of her in a metal frame. Occasionally, Celia gets on the coffee table, goes to the frame and rubs her head and cheek against it. I know she's just getting a nice scratch, but it always seems like she's sending Margaux a head butt.