I don’t understand how it’s a week since my Mina left me and not a year or 10 minutes. Time passes very strangely for me now. I still don’t understand why, of all the individuals on this planet, my Mina had the bad cancer? Why her? She never did a mean thing in her life, and I’m certain she never had a mean thought. Mina spent her life loving me, caring for me, looking out for me, and wanted nothing more than to spend her time with me. Why did that earn her a disease that no medicine could cure and a shortened life? Before you comment that she lived for 13 years, I’m convinced she could’ve lived 14 or 15 because her health in January was outstanding. Her vet once said she had the heart of a dog half her age!


Mina, after a bath in August, 2009

And please, no comments today about moving on with my life or getting another dog or any of that bullshit. I’m tired of hearing/reading it. I’m not adopting again and I have very good reasons for my decision and I’m sick of people arguing with me. I am moving on with my life – I’m breathing, aren’t I? – but I intend to grieve for the love of my life in whatever manner that grief takes for however long it takes. Grieving is part of love, and there are no damn shortcuts.

Never been one to complain that life isn’t fair or unfair, I’ve always figured that life is what you make of it. But, this isn’t fair. It’s NOT FAIR. Mina should never have had cancer, she should be here with me right now, and she should’ve died peacefully in her sleep of old age. It still doesn’t seem possible to me that she’s gone, despite the large wooden urn on my coffee table and the pain in my heart that sometimes leaves me breathless.

I awoke at 1:22 a.m., for the third night since she’s been gone. That’s the time I noted on my iPhone when I called Dr. Smith last Monday morning. That’s a powerful guilt working in my mind, it seems.

Mina, my dearest love, I miss you so much it’s unbearable.