Sad close to Christmas

We had a lovely Christmas. Everyone in our family stuck out the germ-infestation and made it through. We canceled one family gathering because the cousins were ill, but our nuclear family held out. It was weird not having Blake with us. It's the second of four Christmases without him in our house...the first, he was in Iraq, this time, Afghanistan. And all the phone lines were taken, so he didn't even get to call. :(

Santa, while bringing gifts closer to the middle of the kids' list rather than the tippy top, got the nod of approval and made our two little ones VERY happy happy. We had great family gatherings, good food (healthy, too!) and lots of Christmas-movie-watching cuddle time.

But there was an air of sadness. Emma had been sick. Over the last couple of weeks, she'd had more seizures and hurt her neck. She'd been in pain, but we felt like we'd kicked it with medicine including an anti-inflammatory, steroids and seizure medication. She was doing so well, and had a great time with her Christmas bone Santa brought her.

Last night, after our final Christmas gathering, she had another seizure. And then another, and another. She paced, panted, cried. I held her and tried to keep her calm, but nothing worked. She started to fall over, run into things and bawl. After much deliberation, my husband decided to take her into the vet ER. As I put on her harness and leash, she buried her head in my arms and I hugged her for the last time. Within seconds of arriving at the ER, they had given her sedation to calm her, and my husband said goodbye as he held her while she went to sleep. The vet said she wouldn't make it more than a few hours, so the decision was made easier, but still very difficult. When he walked in without her, holding her collar, it was all too real.

This dog was something pretty special. She filled a void left by the death of my golden retriever puppy. We saved Emma from abuse and abandon, and saved her from a cage at the shelter. While skiddish and somewhat fearful of people, she eventually came to love everyone in the family. She was an awesome companion to our son, and was the first to greet him when we brought him home from the hospital. She stayed by his side through all of the illness he's endured. She slept next to our daughter's bed. She was the softest, fluffiest dog EVER, and people always asked, "how do you get her so soft?!" She was just like a pillow.

And tonight, and for the next several, I'm sure I'll be crying into my pillow because I know I won't have to get up to feed and let her out. I won't see her laying on the hearth rug as I walk by. I won't watch her hop like a bunny through the yard to catch and play with birds. I won't be able to rub her fluffy little ears and see her smile. She will be sorely missed. She was my good Emma-girl. And I loved her.