CrossFit competitions and Sad Transitions

It’s taken me a few days to get to updating this because last weekend was certainly a whirlwind.  

I was sad and frustrated to miss TBA, but there’s always a bright side – a friend called asking if I could sub in a CrossFit competition I opted out of due to my TBA plans.  Bruce had been given the weekend, and I’d be close enough just in case.

Well, after two events (of five), I got the dreaded phone call.

“Hi Sarah.  Bruce has really taken a turn for the worse.  It’s time.”

I knew.  I guess I didn’t officially know, but after seeing him the day before…I knew.  His conditioned had worsened even further.  He couldn’t stand up, wouldn’t eat…it was indeed time.

But now I had committed myself to another event, and I at least wanted to finish the 5 workouts we knew about – the finals wouldn’t be a problem because I never place at the top at these things, right?

LOL.  We were in first place after the first event.

So in a series of confusing events, our score sheet for one event actually got lost, “officially” placing us at the bottom, but it turned out okay – I had to leave to meet Chris at the vet and be with Bruce.  I’m proud to say we could have come out 2nd or 3rd – pretty crazy for a pair who hadn’t practiced any events together, and it was my partner’s first competition!  

So my sweaty, disgusting self shows up to the vet, and I really thought I’d be okay.  I had come to a place of acceptance – he’d be in a better place, out of pain…all that stuff.  Right?

Nope.  Total meltdown.  Seeing the life go out of those gorgeous eyes…I can’t describe it.  It seems like I’ve been the “crazy dog lady” forever, but remember, we’ve only had Chuy for a little over 4 years.  This was a first.  An awful, terrible first.

There was – and will be for a while – anger that went with this as well.  

It’s not that hard to feed your dog.

It’s not that hard to get your dog it’s shots.

It’s not that hard to take it to the vet once in a while.

Heartworm prevention is given once a month. 

It was all preventable.  Bruce was somewhere between 6 and 8 years old – not a young, springy dog, but a dog that should have had years left…not weeks.  Yes, dogs are expensive, but that basic care is within reach if you look around.  Or bother.

Bruce not only died from a lack of basic care, he died out of someone’s apathy and laziness.

Take care of you.  Take care of those around you.  Be a good human.

Happy Wednesday, friends.  Be nice to a doggie today.

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