Grief, Rejection, and Forgiveness (a personal entry)

The other day I chose to put my senior dog out of his misery. He had cancer and it had moved into his lungs.

He stayed by my side until his breathing seemed to be labored. There’s always doubt, but he was starting to use his outer muscles to breath, and sometimes started panting.

It was definitely time.

This was more than a dog, he was my baby. I raised him since he was a bean and his eyes were not yet opened. We saw him the day after he was born and he scooted over to my young daughter and she named him Cinnamon. Probably because of his brown coloring. My son was also a young guy, we were in love and when Cinnamon was old enough, we brought him home.

The story brings up a lot of pain so I’ll just mention a few things I’ve realized since his ending.

He was more than a dog, he was family. He was non-judgmental and loyal. He has lived through my children growing up, and stuck by my side during really tough times in my life. Has there through all of the stages my children went through, he was there through cancer, surgery, trauma, breakups, loneliness, happiness, joy, successes.

Whenever I was home, he was by me, right at my feet.

As he got older his quirks came out and I kept him away from too many people, he freaked out around other dogs, he loved our cats. He played gently with the kitten. It looked rough but really he was only covering him with slobber and wearing him out.

While Cinny was by my side I lost the man I always thought I would spend the rest of my life with. With Cinny by my side, I also realized that I didn’t have to accept crumbs. Cinny was there through grief and acceptance.

He had a couch that was always called: “Cinny’s couch.” It was sunken in and smelled like a dog. He would burrow beneath blankets with his favorite toys.

When the cats would fight (and it’s often), he would always go investigate and break it up, earning him the name “Sheriff.”

His last moments were peaceful and it was so quick. I said my goodbyes so I wasn’t able to linger in the room with him very long after he was gone. I wanted to remember his soulful eyes looking into mine. I wanted to remember him full of life.

My kids and a dear friend who happens to be my ex husband were there, we all wept profusely, lots of tissues. When he was gone, I wailed, it was done. I know it was the right thing.

Also with us was the man I was with at the time, he was my boyfriend and professed love for me. I did love him (a lot) and was so grateful he was there for me.

Right after this ordeal, the boyfriend decided to “reel in” our relationship. He wanted to be just friends. I won’t go too far into it except to say I was hurt beyond belief. On top of the grief of losing Cinnamon, I was dealing with very personal rejection. I learned why and respect him and his reasons, but I doubt I'll be able to be friends with someone I don’t trust. It’s ok. I’ve been through worse. It’s an exercise in forgiveness.

The thing is, when I lost Cinny, an entire segment of my life came up to be released. I had to say goodbye to a lot of things and they became memories. It’s hard to fully explain, I’ll need to turn to my journal and more creative writing to truly express it.

I wanted to share this today as an ode to Cinnamon, and a shout-out to forgiveness.

As I grieve I’m also called to forgive someone who hurt me, through tears and the emptiness through the loss of my canine best friend.

I keep waiting for him to come back and haunt me, I want a vivid dream (visitation).

The first day I kept hearing his toes tipping through the hallway, but it was just the cat.

I know a lot of you relate to this, feel free to comment.

XoXo