I had a feeling that saying good-bye to my dogs was going to be the hardest thing I’d ever done, and I’d been through some things I didn’t think I’d survive.
A few hours before we were due to fly out, I pulled up to the beach for the last time. The dogs came out to greet me like always, following alongside the truck, happy to see me. I’d been crying since I left Bryan’s house a half hour earlier. The dogs could sense something was wrong. The nudged at me and whined. Even the dogs that were usually more standoffish were vying for attention.
I tried to go about my normal routine. I set out food and water. But instead of the other chores I usually performed, I sat down in the middle of the pack while they ate. Dogs licked and nudged me. A few crawled into my lap.
I started to sob. I felt the way I did when I had buried my friends day after day. Twelve hundred of them, in the end.
The dogs knew their alpha was hurting. They didn’t understand why, of course, but they sensed that I needed them at my side, and they were there.
I hated leaving them behind. I didn’t even know if I could. I looked at every dog, taking a mental photograph of each one. I promised myself that I would never forget them or what they had done for me. I was lost when I had found them that day at the beach. Life had lost the vibrancy it held when I was younger. What had happened to my idealistic dreams? When did I give up? Meeting the dogs had given me purpose. I felt alive when I was with them. And now I was abandoning them.
I always lost track of time when I was with my pack, so I had set the alarm on my watch before I left the house. I felt my heart lurch when the watch started to beep.
“Not yet!” I cried.
I felt the dogs’ noses against my skin as they nuzzled me, sending a shiver through my body. I cried harder than I had in years, and I had cried a lot in the two years we’d been in Puerto Rico.
“I’m sorry, you guys.” The dogs looked me in the eyes as though trying to understand what I was saying. Their heads tilted and their brows furrowed. They looked so sad.
“I’m sorry for leaving you.”
I felt like I had a thousand pounds on my back as I walked to the truck. I climbed in and pulled the door shut behind me. I had to blink away the tears so I could see the road. The dogs followed as I slowly drove out of the parking lot. I couldn’t bear it. I punched the accelerator and sped away. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the entire pack standing on the road watching me leave. It felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest.
When I rounded the corner and was out of sight of the dogs, I pulled over, opened the door, and threw up. I sat there for several minutes, trying to catch my breath. I knew I’d never recover from this.