Sitting in the void

 Zorro, full of life and wearing a black bandit mask, rescued us in 2011.

Over a decade of doing life together, he filled spaces in our hearts with love—places we didn’t know that needed tender loving care.

So as Zorro’s hips began to weaken over the past few months, David and I honored him each moment of every day.

His decline continued and we surrounded him with love, kisses, Dairy Queen soft serve ice cream, steak and more kisses.

We sat with him when it was hard for him to lay down and get comfortable. We rubbed his head until he fell asleep.

As the days rolled by, I talked to him more. It seemed we’d both found a space of togetherness that wasn’t interrupted by the neighborhood dog passing by or my phone alerts.

In these quieter days, we shared moments where I could sit with him, talk and just be. 

“Where has the time gone, my friend? Thirteen years just—gone, like that.”

“You’ve taught me so much…mostly, you’ve taught me to love fiercely without conditions.”

“Buddy, you will have to tell me when you are ready, because I want to keep you forever.”

He’d either wag his tail or agree with me by giving me a kiss the way he kissed only me—he’d never lick me, he always bummed his nose to my face, my side or my leg. It was his way of giving me his affection.

With David though, he’d give a thousand lick kisses. He gave David so many licks just to hear me say, “I don’t get kisses like that!” He loved to make me jealous showing that he loved “dad” differently than me. 

So when Saturday night came and he couldn’t sit down, I prayed in Jesus name for him to get comfy. But he didn’t.

David and I stood with him. And then, he told me. 

He came up and licked my hand three times—not a nose bump, but actual licks.

Then he walked over to David and licked him too.

My heart quickened.

I wasn’t ready.

But he was.

And I vowed to honor him. So we took him for his last car ride.

We returned home, we opened the garage door and the service door from the house was open. Maya, our female husky, had opened it and was standing in the doorway, awaiting the news.

Somehow, I think she already knew in her heart, but she needed to see and hear for herself.

“He’s gone to heaven, Maya.” I knelt down in the garage gesturing for her coming to me, but she ran over to David as if to ask him if this was true.

***

This week and the days to come, we sit in the void without Zorro’s loving presence.

This is a tough place to linger. 

I want to run away from it, but I remain seated in this hollow crevasse of emptiness.

I sit with the pain, just as Zorro did, with grace and dignity, believing He redeems all things.

I look for signs of God’s grace and watch for reasons to live in wonder and curiosity in this lonely place.

The house is too quiet without him.

Death wasn’t God’s original plan.

And one day, all things will be made right. He’s making all things new.

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” ~Isaiah 43:19