Dexter
March 2014 - September 2023
We had to say a sad and sudden farewell to Dex last week.
We are all devastated. Through my tears and between kisses I reassured him he would live on through my art. I thanked him for his witty conversation and endless companionship. For allowing us to be who he trusted and for his kind and gentle bedside manners, looking over us when we were sick, licking us when we were sweaty.
I will forever miss our nightly tug of war with the duvet and that any previous cursing about it was just rubbish, I take it all back. I told him how grateful I was for his loyal love, and sharing his huge personality. There is no denying he adored banana bread and peanut butter. His dexterity to clean a butter container would amaze you, and no one could get away with eating a clementine or a banana without sharing. We walked the streets of Södermalm together, and he loved getting a lunch or a coffee. He loved an adventure. He also loved a train or bus ride and greeting travellers with a kind and friendly curiosity. He didn’t realise how big he was, squeezing into spaces far too small which resulted in dramatic and messy exits. How could you mind since he just wanted to be close, always at my feet.
What we thought was decline due to age was the silent tumor taking over his lung. We were not ready to say goodbye, he was not ready, but there was no denying that at this stage of cancer his suffering would only escalate. As caretakers our responsibility comes with heavy decisions and I only hope he runs free and happy and continues keeping a watchful eye over us just like he did down here. He was secure when the whole family was together because we were his pack. My heart aches. I try to grasp for comfort knowing that at least the fireworks won’t distress him anymore. He can ring in every New Year with no fear and tremors. Maybe my pen can continue (when I can see through the tears) to keep him conducting his flat-coat orchestra and hopefully fill this huge gaping hole. He was our Dexter and my heart is broken, my tears are endless.
This happened so quickly. The next day we left for Berlin, Greg was running the marathon on Sunday. Our flight was canceled and we scrambled to get to Berlin by way of rerouting to Frankfurt and taking an overnight train to Berlin. We were tired and sad, but Greg was determined. Using the fray off the marathon bracelet to remind of Dexters fur helped propel him. I don’t think I could do the same. I think of Dexter and need to stop, can’t see with the tears and lose my sense of direction of even. I know, I know, this is the 4th pet that I have had to say good bye to. The pain seems to be harder the older I am getting. Geesh, all pain gets harder, even my knees and my finger joints. Aaaarrgh!
I am in the middle of 2 books, the Pond Island book, starring Finley the mini daschund, but flatcoats are also there. Also my Swedish book, which uses Dex, the Giraffe and Sheep. Maybe putting full focus on the books, now that the trip to Berlin is done won’t be too hard. Working on the pond island book has brought me so much joy, reliving my childhood memories, putting right back on the island that I look forward to it. Hopefully drawing flat coats will bring me joy, comfort, happiness even. My tears need to subside and then we will see. I need to focus on my dreams, life is short.
