Death and Sadness

Last night my puppy died. I wasn't there at the time, but I did see her be in pain for the whole weekend. She would hold her little stomach in and tense all her muscles as if thinking that if she rolled into a small enough ball all the pain would go away. There are not many things more affecting or pathetic as watching, or holding, a sick dog. They are so fragile and heartbreaking. When I came home that night I sat up with my mom for a while just crying and reminiscing over the very, very short life of this puppy. She was so sweet, playful and good. I can't believe how well-behaved and lovely she was. I've never been so attached to a dog before. She was my dog. I loved her and she loved me and we would snuggle together or chase each other around the house or play catch for hours as if no one else but us existed.

As my mom and I sat crying on the couch, huddled together and remembering Sophie's beautiful brown eyes that never conveyed much intelligence, but were incredibly sweet and loving just the same, my mom said, "If this is what losing an animal feels like, imagine how hard losing a human would be." I don't dare to think about this too much. There have been times in my life when I think about what it would be like to not be able to see, touch, smell, or hear the people that I love. The emotions that rise from those thoughts are excruciatingly sad and painful. These feelings just remind me of how unnecessary death is; how we're not made to feel death, to experience grief and loss. We're meant to be whole and fulfilled with the love of God and with the love of those around us. People always talk about the things that humankind lost at the fall. They speak of how we lost innocence and good choices and gained diseases, pain, wrong decisions, grief. We talk about how we gained death and lost life and we say it so matter-of-fact, sometimes without feeling the devastation of such a loss.

How could they have known? How could Adam and Eve have known what terrible things lay in wait for the future? How could beings born into goodness known of anything other than goodness or innocence? It's hard to get mad at them for being idiots when I think that they didn't know that they were choosing between good and bad, for all they knew they were choosing between good and and even greater good that God was holding back from them. They were naive and innocent and those qualities were ultimately destructive, which is very poetic and achingly sad. We like that don't we? We like it when beauty and innocence and goodness are corrupted and then redeemed. We like those things because they mirror humankind's own tragicomic story. It's tragic because the beginning is so terrible, but comic because it ends in a marriage, a love-match.

I can't say that I blame people for telling their kids that dogs go to a better place when they die, because it's such a comforting thought thinking that you'll someday meet up with your beloved companion again just as you'll meet up with other people who are just as dear, if not more so.