I saw you in the vet’s office the other day. I was pretty distracted trying to keep my 35-pound ‘lap dog’ in check, but I knew immediately there was something different about you. I should have recognized what it was even before the receptionist told you how sorry she was. You didn’t have an animal with you. Not anymore.
I wasn’t trying to be nosey, but in a small office like that you can’t help but overhear everything. I heard you say that you had no regrets, other than the fact that nobody came with you. I heard you say you would wait in your car for them to bring the body out. Once I’d paid, I saw you sitting there in your car, alone, with the hatchback open and a blanket spread out in the back.
I just want to tell you how very sorry I am. I’m sorry for the loss of your sweet pet, whose species or gender I don’t even know but I am certain meant the world to you. I am so sorry that nobody came with you for this terrible moment. I’m sorry that I didn’t just run right up to you and hug you, but I didn’t want to bother you in your moment of grief. I feel now like I should have bothered you anyway.
I also want you to know that I’m hopeful for you. I know how much it hurts, because losing a pet is truly losing a part of your family. But I know that eventually that hole in your heart will heal just enough that you can open your arms to a new fur baby, one that needs you just as much as you need it.