So I mentioned in my “easing back onto the blog” post that this spring has been just kind of hit after hit – it in many ways exemplified the saying, “When it rains, it pours.” But there was one hit that was significantly harder than the others…
We had to say goodbye to our older family dog Rusalka a few weeks ago.
It’s hit us all very hard. I’m still sort of at a loss for words, because she was… something really special. From the very day we brought her home.
And that description is so incredibly insufficient.
You know, when Genghis died two springs ago, I was full of words. Full of eloquent eulogies and willing remembrances. The post I wrote back then was originally three times the final length. I just had so much to say – I gushed sorrowful words and tearful memories for weeks.
When Chakka died last spring, it was a quieter affair. I didn’t get a chance to post about it on here, as it was in the middle of a lull in my posting, but while her loss was felt keenly, somehow the blow was softer. She had been so far gone at the end that it just seemed the natural order of things. It had certainly not been a shock, and it was a relatively smooth transition for us from sorrow to being able to remember her with a smile and a fond chuckle. But again, talking about her came easily.
It’s different somehow. It’s difficult for me to put anything into words that don’t feel cheap and deficient. She was just so… good.
I even waited a few weeks to allow it to sink in, hoping that maybe some distance would give me some time to sort out my writing. No luck.
There’s just this labrador shaped hole that I don’t know how to describe. And every time I try, it all just feels so completely… inadequate. No attempt to verbalize how amazing she was really seems to even come close to giving the full picture.
So I guess the best I can do is leave you with some photos. A visual memorial of sorts. One I’m sure the internet doesn’t actually care too much about – ya’ll never met her anyway – but one that I feel like I need to post for myself.
Rest well, Rusalka. You are missed more than you know.