Sarge

We knew Murphy was not long on this earth for a while before she finally died. We also knew Lucy was not going to handle it well. So we decided in advance that we would get another dog as quickly as possible after Murphy died because that’s what Lucy would need. We understood in theory that we would not be ready for a new dog, but Lucy’s need for a pal would override our feelings on the issue. So 3 days after we put Murphy down we got Sarge.

Sarge the day we got him

Sarge the day we got him

We went to the Humane Society to donate Murphy’s leftover pills. While we were there, I suggested we “look” at the dogs. Baby Daddy said it smelled like a trick. I said you can’t call it a trick if everyone knows what you’re doing.

As soon as he saw Sarge, he liked him. “That’s a good looking dog.” We let him meet Monkey Boy. They were friends instantly. He and Lucy have been slower to warm up to each other. Mostly they parallel play. Sarge is trying to engage her, but she’s making him earn it. I have a strong feeling they will be good friends soon.

Even though she won’t play with him, Lucy has been so much better since Sarge moved in. Monkey Boy calls Sarge his best friend. This is the hard part: missing Murphy so much I’m wrecked about it, but happy that Sarge’s presence makes things better for other creatures around here. I think I’ll eventually like Sarge because I do, not just because he fills a need.

Sarge on his pillow watching football with Baby Daddy

Sarge on his pillow watching football with Baby Daddy

A few days after Murphy died, Monkey Boy asked me where Heaven’s house is. He’d obviously been thinking about it quite a bit. He figured if Murphy was in Heaven now, then we should all pack up and go to Heaven’s house and see her. I told him it didn’t work that way. He said OK in that dismissive way toddlers do. I still don’t know how much he’s processed of all this. But he’s three, and life itself is bizarrely new to him almost every day, so he’s got that going for him.

Sarge In. Your. Face

Sarge In. Your. Face

I’m glad we had a plan. I’m glad we executed it. But grief for a dog is tricky stuff. I feel totally stupid that I’m still this sad about a dog. But I am. And there’s no shortcut to getting over that.

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