I received a call this evening from a nurse at the emergency hospital where we took Bayley when he had his seizure last week, the start of our horrifying ordeal. Seems his blood work revealed no evidence of bacterial infection.
Which means that his kidneys failed from old age, most likely, according to the nurse and the vet. I feel somewhat better knowing that it wasn’t anything we could prevent and that he didn’t ingest anything in the back yard. Still, this huge hole in my heart won’t go away and the house echoes with emptiness and silence.
I keep expecting to hear a snort or see a nose poked around the corner of a room or beautiful brown eyes peeking over the edge of the bed waiting for a lift up. When Frank comes home, there is no rapturous joy and frenzied howling. When I come home at 4, since Unca David is now back at work, there is no one here.
And it’s truly horrible. It sucks and I don’t like it.
I’m sorry Bayley Beagle, but we weren’t ready for you to go yet. You had a great run and gave us much joy and happiness, but … it still seems too fleeting.
We miss you Pookie. Sleep well.