Her symptoms were that of a stomach virus. Turns out, she was riddled with cancer.
I've spent the past two weeks comforting her owners, Vicki and David.
And now I will spend however long I have to, comforting myself.
You see, Hannah girl, or Hannah Banana, as we sometimes called her, had been coming to daycare since
she was 6 months old. I'll never forget the first time I laid eyes on her. Stunning. Breathtaking. Beautiful.
She was shy at first, but once she got in to the routine and groove, she became high up in the pack. She attended our daycare in NY, 3 days a week. Multiplied by 52 weeks a year. Multiply that by 8 1/2 years. That's how often I got to see Hannah.
She was more than a customer. She was my magestic, beautiful friend. Although she never talked to me, she listened, she looked, she understood. She comforted. She was funny. She was maternal to the puppies. She was sometimes fresh! ("cheapshot Hannah" was a nickname because when we'd be outside in the woods, she'd "herd" some dogs by nipping - never biting - their legs, and startle the heck out of them for a second).
I cannot believe I won't see her gorgeous face anymore. My dogs loved her! My staff loved her! Everyone loved her.
These dogs and I form such a close bond, words can't describe it really. I sound insane saying that my best friends have furry feet. But its true. They do.
This is just the beginning, I know. My customers who started with me as puppies are soon entering their senior years. One day, I'll have to say good bye to them. How does one prepare themselves for that? One minute they're healthy and playful, the next day they're gone.
To my beautiful Hannah: I think of you all the time. I believe all dogs do go to heaven. I hope you're there waiting for me when I get there! I love you my sweetie pie, I love you so much. RIP.
