Facing Tragedy at Home while Away

I knew going in that one of the hardest parts of my year abroad would be experiencing hardships that are difficult enough to handle at home. I  knew that watching my family and my friends suffer from afar would be one of the most emotionally taxing and mentally trying things I had ever done. Let me start this particular post by saying, however, that the topic I'm addressing here is relatively minor compared to the tragedies that I could be experiencing, but I'm going to take it as a moment to assess what it's like to be sad and worried and in mourning from half a world away anyway.

So. My dog's name is Taffy. Taffy is a distinctly medium-sized, tan-colored mutt with button ears and curly tail.

Look at those ears. Not mine, Taffy's.

Taffy is old. Really old. We're not sure exactly, but she's probably about sixteen years old. Come to mention it, her birthday was two days ago. Since she was adopted from the Humane Society, we weren't sure of her real birthday. So we picked one. Since we got her in 2001, she's been a huge part of my life, as any dog deserves to be. She saw me through some of the most difficult years of my life. There were many instances where I felt as though she was the only one I could confide in, and really the only creature left that liked me. However, she also celebrated a lot of important milestones with me. She patiently saw me through my everyday life, day after day, week after week, and year after year after year.

She's always been friendly.

And she was never really fond of the dark.

Now, in my family, we're pretty honest about the harsh realities of existence. We've been watching Taffy get older every day for the past sixteen years, and for the past two years, we've thought that she was towards the end of her rope. Like the trooper she is, she's exceeded all expectations and has stayed fairly sprightly and happy, even if she has gone a little crazy. That is, until recently.

She never really chewed things, but she would shred wrapping paper?

I knew from the day I left for DC that she was going to be put down while I was away. We were starting to see signs of hip pain and severe discomfort, and there's no reason to make such an old dog suffer through that. I said my final goodbyes, and readied myself for the death of my dog while I was halfway across the world. I knew she would be surrounded by people that love her, so I was confident that she would pass peacefully and easily in the comfort of our house. I found it really important to have that time to prepare myself so that facing her actual death would be less of a shock.

And she loves Christmas. At least I think she does.

My plan, however, was disrupted when I was told that she experienced what was likely a stroke earlier this morning. My sister sent me snapchats showing how... altered she is. She told me she falls over, she can't walk straight, and she breathes heavily. After hearing this, it all feels incredibly fresh. It feels like a knife through my heart to know that she's suffering more than I thought she would and I'm not there to help her through it. To be honest, it makes me feel like I shouldn't have left. But I know I had to. It all just feels so unfair to have to watch her suffer as soon as I'm gone. Why couldn't this have happened two weeks ago? Why does she have to be miserable when I can do nothing but watch and not help? It sucks. 

But not the car. She thinks she loves the car until she actually gets in the car.

As far as tragedies go, however, I'm fairly lucky that this is all I'm facing. I knew she was at the end of her lifespan, and I had the chance to say goodbye. Not everyone that studies abroad for a year faces so (relatively) mild a tragedy. That said, it's still hard. I miss my dog, and there's nothing I can do to make it seem better. Sickness is sickness, and watching it develop from afar is horrible. On a personal level, it makes all the little struggles and challenges of being a student in a new country that much more difficult. When your life is suddenly has this undercurrent of strife, it's hard to see new difficulties as opportunities for learning and not obstacles deliberately placed between you and happiness. It's extremely hard to continue to frame my experience abroad as a chance to learn and grow rather than as a disruption to what my life should be, but I just keep telling myself that I chose to come here for a reason and it will only do me good.

But she's always loved hanging out in my room.

When she does pass, mourning Taf without ignoring my experience in Germany will be difficult, but not impossible. The sadness will be intense, but not insurmountable. The time it takes to recover will be long, but not infinite. One day, hopefully soon, I'll be okay, and she will, too. In the meantime, I'll be telling myself that it will get better. What else is there to do?

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Taffy passed away on August 03, 2017.