A hard goodbye

I’m writing this on Tuesday, May 7th before the storm of grief that will overcome me and my family. On Thursday, we will say goodbye to our beloved Moon. She has two kinds of cancer and skin lesions as a result of autoimmunity triggered by the cancer. It’s time.

I’m managing fine as I write this, and I know I’ll be fine on the day of. I’m very good at compartmentalizing, something I realized when my mother passed away in 2021. The morning my mother died, I did what I could from my home in Calgary to facilitate getting her to a funeral home in Toronto, where she passed in the hospital. By later that morning, I was filming a medical appointment, my brain shut off from grief. I was in shock, but I can still remember the doctor, the patient, and how I had to maneuver in the room to film the physical exam. I was present, but not really there.

I’m sure it will not be the same when Moon is gone. My mother and I had a tenuous relationship that was mostly loveless; Moon has been nothing but love. If you have - or ever had - an animal as part of your family, you know how this feels.

So I’m writing and scheduling this week’s newsletter early because I want to be able to lean into the grief with my family.

We’ve had Moon since she was 15 weeks old. She was my constant companion in my office. While Jeff travelled, she snuggled up to me. She matured as the boys did, figuring out her place in the pack. She snarled and snapped once, then never did it again. She was housebroken in three days. She buried beef bones in the freshly landscaped yard to hide them from the magpies.

Moon was smart and sassy. She preferred people over dogs, howling and chuffing with glee the second time the Purolator guy came to the house to pick up a package. You only needed to present yourself on the doorstep once to become part of her world. She would moan and whine when people came over, overcome with missing our her friends. She was a nudge at the dinner table, pushing up our elbows, yelling at us until we gave her scraps.

She was much loved and well fed. We caved to all diva whims: demanding pets, glaring at anyone sitting in her spot on the couch, refusing to eat for a couple of days until her kibble was properly with seasoned with parmigiano reggiano.

She was light diffusing the dark, comfort among chaos, and a soft place to land when we had pain. She was love, all the time.

We will miss you forever, Moon. Chew all the sticks and eat all the treats. Play in the snow. Practice your side-eye for when we see you again.

XO 🐾🌈