I have no idea what "blog" even means: May 2014

This has not been a good week. Our world has been completely turned upside down and I have never been in so much pain. On Saturday morning we lost our baby girl. I will never be able to forget that day. I will never be able to forget hearing Paul tell me, "Fudge is dead."

Fudge was the joy of our lives. She was our fur-baby and I fell more and more in love with her each and every day. I have never felt love for an animal the way I did with Fudge. She was a goofball and the happiest dog I have ever seen. She loved everyone and was crazy about life. She loved the snow. She loved the rain. She loved the ice. She loved swimming in the lake. She loved absolutely everything and she embraced every experience that came her way. (I think the only thing in the world she didn't love was her gentle leader harness. She hated that with a passion.) Her enthusiasm and love for the world was contagious and she brought joy to so many people.

Fudge met her fate all too soon and never even got to see her first birthday. I am so heartbroken. Our house is so quiet now that she is gone.

Saturday morning, Paul and I left the house to go to his youngest sister's baby shower. We knew that Fudge was going to have an awesome day because her Grandpa was going to pick her up and take her hiking with his dog (one of Fudge's best dog friends). Fudge was insane when it came to walks with my dad. She could never jump into his truck fast enough. Hiking with my dad and Buddy was definitely one of her favorite hobbies, if not her very favorite.

Not an hour and a half after we left, Paul received the call no one ever wants to receive. It was my dad on the other end, telling him that there had been an accident. I had just finished reading a story to Paul's niece when Paul pulled me aside and told me to follow him. "Where are we going? Are you taking me to see your parents' new boat?" Paul was acting strange. He took me to a room and sat down. I don't remember how he started the conversation because my mind went blank. All I remember was him saying, "Fudge is dead." I lost it. I kept repeating over and over, "I want to see my baby. I need to see my baby."

We drove from the shower directly to my parents' house. Paul explained to me that my dad had taken her to the vet, but by the time he got there it was already too late. As we pulled in the driveway, my dad was hanging over the lifeless body of our baby and stroking her face. I collapsed into a pile, still in complete disbelief. Not my baby. Not Fudge. Why Fudge? It took a while, but I was finally able to gather myself and make my way to her. Her lips were pale and her chest so still. I hugged the body of my baby and pet her ears and paws like I often did while she was sleeping. I lay my head upon her chest, but instead of the sound of her breath, there was just a deafening silence. I could have snuggled her forever.

My dad explained that he had no idea what exactly happened. He was driving about 10 mph down a two-track to the hiking trail and Fudge had her head out the window like she always did. He turned to look at his dog Buddy and heard Fudge jump out of the window. Since he was not going very fast he said he just expected her to pop back up and keep running. Except she didn't. We still don't know what caused her to jump and what exactly killed her. It was a freak accident with no rhyme or reason. Judging by the amount of blood that poured out of her cold little nose when my dad nestled her in the back of our car, I am assuming she must have knocked her head on a tree and severed her carotid artery.

I will never understand why things like this happen. Why terrible things happen to good people. How the world as you know it can change in an instant. And why the world had to take our baby back before she even lived to be a year old. It sucks and it hurts. It leaves me bewildered and slightly angry. There is no explanation and no justice when things like this happen. Just sadness, grief, and confusion. Going home is so hard. She was our baby and her memory saturates every square inch of our house. All of our summer plans involved her. She was our life and our family. She was our little girl.

Grief is such a rollarcoaster. I think the first two days were the worst. I do not think I have ever cried so much in my life. The day she died, my dad made her a beautiful box and Paul and I buried her in our backyard. We have sat at her grave and cried many times since. Even though she was "just a dog" she was OUR dog. And she was family.

Fudge, you brought us so much joy in the 11 months that you spent on this earth. You will forever be in our hearts and we will never forget you. We love you and miss you so much Fudgey girl. I hope you are happy wherever you are and know how much we love you.