This morning, i got a call at about 8am from my co-worker. I hadn't worked yesterday because we only had 2 boarders and the weather wasn't the greatest. Since i was sick on Monday as well, i offered to work Saturday to compensate. That's why i thought i was being called.
Instead, it was my co worker (Who doesn't usually get in until 9). She informed me that Churchill, one of the two boarders,had passed away last night. I had only worked at this place for 4 1/2 months, but it was Churchill and his brother Gershwin that i took care of most regularly. While both older, Churchill was riddled with a heart condition and other complications. Everytime he boarded, our goal was "just keep him alive." it sounds like a heartless thing to say, but it was true.
Just keep Churchill alive until he got home. He came in with Gershwin to board for 3 weeks on Thursday, and died in his sleep Friday night.
(Or, i hope it was in his sleep, because nobody is there overnight. Churchill, i hope you didn't suffer.)
Anyway, I've been doing alot of...erm...bitching about my job, and this made me realize why i'm in the field in the first place. I love animals, for starters. i want to work with animals. I've just been so caught up in my stress, that i forgot the big picture.
Feeling a little sad by Churchill's passing, and worried about Gershwin. They were littermates, inseparable, and knowing animals, i wouldn't be surprised to come in to find a very depressed Gershwin on Monday. I also wouldnt be surprised if Gershwin followed his brother to the Rainbow Bridge very soon.
But i came online. i wasn't crying, or anything like that. Dillon followed me in, clamored gracelessly up his doggy steps,and curled up with his head on my stomach. He hasn't left that position for an hour.
And i realize i've been selfish, and i'm encouraged to make things better. Just because Dillon can't walk or run like he used to doesn't mean i skimp on quality walks. He proved the other day he still plays with toys and Charlie. I haven't been focusing on what i CAN give him, besides medication and blood tests, because i focused on the money aspect. I haven't focused on what i CAN do for him on a personal level, instead of whining about how much time i might or might not have with him.
'Cause someday, loathe to admit it, Charlie is going to be in Gershwin's position: waking up to his best friend/brother being gone. And they aren't children. You can't explain it to them.
So, thank you, Dillon and Churchill, for the eye opener i needed