Loving Loco: On Grieving and Gratitude

Photo: Howard T. Ezell Photography

My mom used to say that we needed marriage counseling, Loco and I. We certainly had our moments.

We had a lot in common, our hearts shaped by hard history and the sting of rejection and misunderstanding. Severed belonging. I’ll always believe that the universe put us in the same room in the shelter that day quite on purpose, for we had so many lessons to learn from each other.

Loco topped out at 6 pounds, but had a personality as big as the world and an attitude to match. At full stretch, he could occupy a queen-sized bed in a way that, many nights, left me teetering on the edge, clinging to the corner of the blanket he had taken from me and wrapped himself in. He was a great dog…and like most great people I know, he wasn’t all that well behaved. He could be sweet one minute, sassy the next, and then turn absolutely defiant in a heartbeat. He tested my patience the way nothing else ever has, and he opened my heart in a way that nothing else probably ever will. If he could talk, he might’ve said the same thing about me.

Photo: Howard T. Ezell Photography

I learned about unconditional acceptance and love from Loco…giving it and receiving it. There was nothing he couldn’t forgive and, well, I could never, ever hold a grudge for long with him either. I learned how the most maddening things end up making the best memories, the funniest stories. I learned about letting another heart connect with my own. 

17 days ago, the lesson became one of impermanence. Suffering. Old age, sickness and death. Letting go.

How could I possibly have known of the enormous, empty crater sized hole that would be left in my life in the absence of this 6-pound dog? How I would so deeply long for the feel of his warm little furry body in the crook of my arm as I write? How I would cry at least once every single day…not just a tear or two, but the deep, heaving, choking, shoulder racking sobs of all-consuming grief that feels like it has no end?

And when the waves feel overwhelming, I take refuge in the sense of pure gratitude in my heart for how lucky I was to have this little creature in my life for the time that I did. Gratitude to whatever gods may be that brought us together. Gratitude for every lesson that I learned on my journey with him.

Even the letting go…