You Are So Brave

It was just after 5:00am. Lex and I had been doing what we had done every day since Gwendolyn arrived. Saying hello to her cheeky face as it moved left to right, then up and down, studying us as if she was taking us all in. We’d move in quickly to help, knowing she had held her bladder so she wouldn’t soil herself. “Bless her,” we would always say.

Though her vet report from yesterday hadn’t been the one we’d hoped for, as an infection had taken hold in her right hock, her effervescent spirit hadn’t shifted. She was still curious and bright. And still hungry for life and her favourite Scooby snacks. Her evening rehab session had been her strongest yet, with all four feet weight bearing.
“You’ve got this, Gwenny,” we cheered.

But this morning was different. It was so different.

Lex said what my heart already knew. “There’s something wrong with Gwenny.”

Her face wasn’t bright and she didn’t look my way. Her head was down inside her “racing car,” the frame that held her safely at night, and a slight drool came from her mouth. And then, moments later, as we cradled her, she was gone.

I have found myself wondering if dear Gwenny held on until we arrived. Until she was surrounded by those who loved her most. Perhaps there was a knowing in that. Perhaps she spared us from finding her already gone and chose to leave this world held close instead.

The likely cause was that her weathered heart had failed her, just like the system she had escaped.

And in that instance, Gwenny’s fight was over, and ours had begun.

In the confusion and the searching, our hearts asked a question they already knew the answer to, but were not ready to accept. There were still bandages to change, plans to make and small steps forward we thought we would take together.

And now, in the quiet that follows, there is only a feeling. A big, empty feeling. As big as Gwenny’s spirit, and as raw as the heartache of unexpected loss.

As I made my way back to my little cabin to catch a few hours of sleep, I thought of the two simple emojis Lex had sent just hours earlier to let me know she had arrived and it was “Gwenny time,” otherwise known as time to put her in her sling 🐑💪.

With my eyes welling with tears, I thought of the brave soul I had just left. The one I had worked beside each day, caring for dear Gwendolyn, and all they had carried through this with her. I wrote back the only words that felt true.

You are so brave.

And then, somewhere in the middle of the sadness, I found gratitude.

How lucky I am to know animals like dearest Gwenny. To serve them, no matter how much it hurts. And to stand, side by side, with some of the finest humans I know, who show up each day knowing their hearts may be broken.

Bless you, dearest Gwendolyn. It has been such an honour to know you. It truly has.

I trust there are plenty of Scooby snacks waiting for you.

And to every member of Team Edgar, thank you for finding your way here, and for all that you give.

You are so brave.