When you adopt a little angel into your life, you know that there will eventually come a day of great heartbreak, of crushing grief, when you have to say goodbye. I knew that when I first held Hudson in my arms, and I accepted it as the cost. I just didn’t know that day would come so tragically and so early.
On Thursday evening, while we were still away, Hudson got into a bag of jerky that was left out accidentally. She has always loved her food and her treats, and she didn’t understand the danger that bags can pose to little dogs like her. By the time she was found, it was too late. I got the devastating news while we were away, and we are heartbroken beyond words. It has taken me a few days to be able to write anything at all.
Hudson never knew an unhappy day in her short life of just three and a half years. She came into our lives just before pandemic and loved being our little girl through lockdown.
She was always ready to play whenever she wasn’t tuckered out from all the fun. My best memories of her were traveling three times to Mexico, walking the beach each morning, and morning cuddles, at which she was an expert.
Hudson wasn’t just my constant companion, she was my teacher. Through her eyes I got to see the world unfold minute by minute, each moment an opportunity for big smiles, snuggles, and games. She taught me to slow down and just be, to feel the magic and simplicity of unconditional love and devotion, to appreciate the obligation and the honor of taking care of another.
At the end of a life, there are really only two questions that matter: Did you love, and were you loved. By that measure, Hudson lived as full a life as any pup ever has. She was my light and my joy. These years were the best I could have asked for with her.
I can’t believe she is gone. She was my baby girl, and I was her daddy. And I will know and keep that to the end of my own days.
"There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals. It is a cycle unlike any other. To those who have never lived through its turnings and walked its rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with full knowledge that they will be broken seems incomprehensible. Only we know how small a price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given."
Suzanne Clothier.
I have undergone a very similar experience this week .... I am beyond devastated , as you are. Your closing words have brought some closure and solace.
... all that matters did you love and were you loved ... Thank you.