Dealing with death

This morning a furry member of our family gained their wings and flew to Doggy Heaven. Bella wasn't even a year old. We had got her in March at 8 weeks old. She was a pure-bred, blue eyed Siberian Huskie and a welcomed addition to our family. Today, she passed away.

She had been sick for a while, not really gaining weight. But, she never suffered. We tried everything thing we could for her, but nothing worked. Nothing was ever found to be wrong with her. She was a huge ball of energy. Just the other day I was playing with her. Yesterday, she was quieter than normal, I guess that should have been my sign that she was going. Today, I walked into the garage and called her name. And she didn't come running like she normally did. She had passed away. I had to explain to the kids what happened to Bella. At 3 and 4, they didn't understand. They watched at daddy dug a hole and we buried Bella in our backyard. They said goodbye to her. Aidan seemed a little sad, but I don't think he quite got it.

Me? I wish I didn't understand it. Because I am heart broken. She was my dog. I picked her out, I named her. She was mine. I know that, to some, she is just a dog. But, she was a member of our family. And it hurts.