March 16th, 2025
I've had to say goodbye to my girl, and will be headed out to Africa on military orders come the end of April. If I decide to get back into producing videos, you'll hear it here first (along with YouTube's community.)
Below is a post I made to a fantastic pet loss community following my baby girl's passing.
A few days ago I had introduced my girl Midna to the group. I spoke about the road trips we’ve taken to celebrate her life.
I spoke about issues with combating breast cancer and the fight to hold off the tides of anticipatory grief. I felt that we had a strong hold on things. Her diagnosis was this past September and here we were, an absolute pair of cancer defying misfits.
But two days ago, a best friend Maryanne woke me up to tell me something was wrong. And I didn’t want to believe it.
When I lifted her paws to give her forehead a kiss, I felt her body give a shudder that I’ve never felt before. Putting on a strong face, she laid beside me in the window. Her little chest rose and fell with the history of her heart arrhythmia.
But this time, the rise and fall was different. I paused what I was watching on TV, placing a hand on her soft fur… and started to feel, those first tendrils of dreaded belief fill my soul. But I refused to let them take hold.
I called her specialist in Richmond, I sent her doctor and radiologist a video. They let me know that she needed the ER, right away.
My best friend Maryanne and I drove. Midna rested on my lap, doing what she loves doing in our car rides… licking my arms nervously, though this time around she didn’t lay down afterwards.
Her local doctor told us, that. He didn’t think she was going to make it through to the weekend.
We made the decision for later that evening. I took Maryanne home, and drove Midna to the place where I had bought every type of food I thought that she could ever want. She watched as I put on a forced smile, clinging to my arms.
The doctor came to our home a half hour before he was scheduled too. And I didn’t think he was going to do that.
I held the door open, and the disbelieving comment at seeing him faltered in my throat. Being in the military, I’ve never felt camera shy or stage fright. But I found myself not wanting him there just then, wanting desperately that extra time to collect myself.
I moved as if in a dream, to a spot I had picked out for us next to my mother and father’s ashes. I wanted them to be with Midna and I.
Maryanne was in tears. The doctor was pleasant and calm enough, moving faster than I expected. Which I guess was a good thing, because I may have found… myself pushing him away.
The first shot came, and Midna cried out. I held her tight, and that’s when. It all came out. Every year spent with her. Every hour by her side. The time I spent away at sea, the time spent making it up to her when I got back.
The amazing partners of my life that served as a mother to her. The journeys and adventures we had. The mountains, the rivers, the curious trips off the beaten path.
I held her in her special blanket. I held her when she was gone. I held her until she was taken and watched until that small grey four door vehicle vanished out of sight.
We expect her back within the next couple days.
I’m going to take some of her ashes with me on a final road trip to my hometown. I want her to see the home that raised me before I leave overseas.
I don’t believe that she’s truly gone. I still feel her side eyes cast my way when I sing off key, or when I call out that I miss her before heading off to work.
It’s been just over a day and I take long moments to cherish her memory, with two short stretches to endure the pangs of grief. And the feelings are exactly as forlorn as I thought they’d be.
But Midna would roll her cute little eyes if I were to let it hurt too much. My girl was always one to kick ass and take names. And I’d hate to let her down now.