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| In Memory of Miss Cookie Miyuki | |||
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 10/17/87 - 10/22/03 about losing miss cookie home archives contact us
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Sunday, February 29, 2004 Once upon a time, before I was jaded at the thought of an awards show, and actually used to look forward to them, there was Cookie and there was me. At one time, I would plan my Sunday around said award shows going to the market early in the day, getting food, diet cokes and the Sunday paper and read while spending some nice quality time with Cookie. It was times like those award shows, when I would plop Cookie down beside me and we'd watch TV, nap, eat, watch more TV and it was the best time ever. The sunlight used to stream into the room through my pale blue sheer drapes into my living room...I can picture it now and remember the times we once shared. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Wednesday, February 25, 2004 Tonight, it is pouring rain...and while I'm happy I don't have to be in it as I used to when taking Cookie out for potty, I wish I were. I think about all of the times when I would get impatient becuase she would not go potty quickly enough or because I was too tired or cold. There was a time when I would remind myself to cherish each moment I was with Cookie (even if it was in the rain or cold) because my time with her wouldn't last forever. And in moments like today, I am reminded of what once was and how I wish I could have it back. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Tuesday, February 24, 2004 Sometimes, it is the people around you who you least suspect will help get you through the tough times. I just have to say, that if it weren't for a particular friend of mine, I don't know what I'd do with myself. He has gotten me through some really tough times, particularly when Cookie first died. I think he is one of the only people who really made me feel better. He called everyday to check up on me and was the first friend I called to tell about Cookie (well, her first "death" at least). I don't think it was until that moment of her first "death" that I realized just how much I valued his friendship. Often times, I say he is the brother I never had and I am so grateful to have him in my life. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Sunday, February 22, 2004 Today, four months ago, Cookie passed away. It's hard for me to believe it's been so long. I've been feeling so empty and lonely all week and I realized just now that it's because another "anniversary" was approaching. Everything around me reminds me of Cookie, especially my apartment. I cannot stand to be here by myself, and yet sometimes, I just want to be surrounded by all of her things and it both kills and comforts me. Each day, as I've said before, I try to remember what it was like to hold her and today, I uncapped her doggie perfume and was reminded of what she smelled like...and I almost broke down in tears again. If I close my eyes, I can pet her again, flick her little feet and hold her one more time. I've been through my share of problems and stresses -- boy have I been through my share of stresses -- but with Cookie being gone, it's even harder and honestly, I find it hard to just deal with anything. Losing her has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to deal with. When bad things happened before, as horrible as they were, I always had Cookie to lean on...she was the one constant in my life no matter what -- she could never disappoint me or let me down. Everyone at some point will let you down...it's a part of life and people are human. But Cookie...never. She never disappointed me or let me down. Then sometimes, I wonder if this is supposed to be teaching me something. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Saturday, February 21, 2004 Now, as I have been trying to settle into my life without Cookie, the true pain of losing her begins to set in. I have gone through the last four months missing my dog, hoping somehow to find a way to be ok, to accept the loss and move on. I have felt sadness, grief and lonliness through this journey. However, only until recently have I begun to feel real pain and emptiness in association with her loss. I have felt low and confused before, but I have always found a way through it. Those feelings have been brief and few and far between. Recently though, I just can't stop thinking about Cookie, and feeling empty which reminds me just how much I am missing without her in my life. Everyday, I function. I do what I have to do to get through the day. When my work day is over, I constantly try to find something to do just so I don't have to go home and be reminded that she is gone. I've never had problems being alone, often times I treasured it. Now, I absolutely despise it. At night, when I come home alone, I feel completely freaked out and can't wait to go to sleep so I don't have to be here in my apartment. It's not as if my life is so horrible I can't live without Cookie, that's not it at all. What I can't do though is to live here, in this space without her. I hate being reminded, everyday of every moment I am in the apartment that she is gone. When I go out, I can have fun, and be happy and can even talk about what a great dog I had. But when I have to come home, I just can't deal with it. I can't stand feeling like a part of my heart is gone. Am I ready to get another dog? If I am doing it as a form of distraction, then yes, I am willing to do that. Would that be fair to the dog? Of course not. Because it wouldn't be there with me for the sake of me loving the dog. Instead this "dog" would be there to keep me from thinking about what I am missing. And I just can't do that to any animal. I didn't feel this bad when Cookie first died. I don't understand why I feel this bad now. **sigh** posted by lisa | linkorama | | Friday, February 20, 2004 I am trying to understand my feelings and the emptiness in the pit of my stomach. I wish I knew how to feel better. Lately, it seems like Cookie's absence in my life really stings. What is weird is that when she first died, I just missed her and knew how much I would be missing. Now though...it's painful and I honestly feel so empty and lost. I look around my apartment every morning and night, and know that it actually hurts to live here without her. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Thursday, February 19, 2004 When I close my eyes, I can see Cookie. I see her wet body shaking off the soapy water when I used to bathe her; I see her walking down the hallway with her head/ear dragging along the ground, trying to find that itch on her head/ear; I see her perky little face and big eyes when she sees that she is getting canned dog food and her ears perking up when she hears the rustle of a plastic bag or the look of horror when she sees me coming at her with a blanket to wrap her up as a Cookie burrito. And I see her little face as she finds that comfortable spot on my bed, curled up next to me knowing that she is safe and loved. Why did Cookie have to die? I need to see her face, to feel her love. My life is weird and unsettled without her. Right now, I need her more than ever and it truly depresses me to know that she's gone. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Wednesday, February 18, 2004 I don't remember the details of the dream, but I know I dreamt about Cookie last night. She had come home and was sleeping in my apartment -- but my apartment was part of an office building and people (who I work with) and don't particularly love were also in the office. I went through a door that would lead me to what was my apartment and Cookie was there eating in a corner. She looked so adorable that I wanted to take her picture (and in usual Cookie fashion) she ran away and hid under the bookshelf. She then ran over the where her food bowl near the kitchen was. I watched as Cookie began eating and then I went and laid down beside her and kept her company. Then...I fell asleep. I don't remember much after that, but I got to be with her again, got to hold her and for a moment, felt content knowing we were together. When I still think of Cookie I feel an ache in the pit of my stomach, knowing she is gone especially when I need her so much. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Tuesday, February 17, 2004 When life used to get me down and I wanted to be alone, the one thing that gave me comfort and happiness was Cookie. Today, I felt pretty blah, and really wasn't sure what to do. I wanted to be alone (or away from people) but since Cookie's death, I don't really like to be alone. I spent the evening with a friend who makes me laugh and helps take my mind off my problems. When I left his place though, I knew I was going home to an empty apartment and felt so empty. I try not to keep my chin up and be happy, but without Cookie around, it's really, really tough. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Sunday, February 15, 2004 Valentine's Day this year seemed particularly down without Cookie. Each year, I would give her canned dog food (she got this on special occasions or holidays), a few extra treats and maybe a special present. This year, I couldn't do any of those things and it killed me. I'm tired of the way I feel because Cookie is gone but I know the feeling of loss will never fully go away. Because Cookie is gone, there is a void not only physically in my apartment, but the one being that kept me sane, happy, fulfilled and even secure. It's amazing what kind of an affect a pet can have in one's life, but it's also an incredible testament to their importance. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Saturday, February 14, 2004 The last few days, I've been feeling pretty down. At first I thought maybe it had to do with all the stresses around me, but I think it has to do with Cookie being gone. My mother pointed out Cookie's absence from my life has probably made me somewhat depressed and she (of course) is right on the nose. Never in my life have I had an issue of being alone. I could be home alone, watching TV, cleaning up, reading a book and be happy as can be regardless if I was with someone else or alone. Lately though, being alone is the last thing I can do. Maybe I never really was alone because I had Cookie in my life. Now that she's gone, I almost don't even know what to do. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Friday, February 13, 2004 I found this link merely by accident... Since Cookie passed away, I've been dealing with the feeling of guilt off and on ...I still think about it, but try not to dwell on that feeling because it will surely destroy me. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Thursday, February 12, 2004 This, an exerpt from an e-mail I wrote to a friend of mine this evening: Right before I got your email, I was thinking a lot about Cookie and my life and again was reminded how big a part of my life is missing without her. I don't think I've ever been truly lonely to the point where I felt numb until she died. I don't think I even felt this bad after my grandparents died, and that to me is weird, shocking and in a way almost wrong. **sigh** posted by lisa | linkorama | | Wednesday, February 11, 2004 A friend of mine gave me copies of pictures, back in the day when Cookie was healthy, fat and sassy. It was only a few years back, and yet it seems like forever ago. Seeing those pictures of Cookie, from back in the day, reminds me even more of what it felt like to hold her and brings back memories. I miss Cookie...a lot. Whenever I get sad, I think back to the last time I held her and how I etched that feeling and memory into my mind so deep that I would never forget. When I close my eyes, I can almost feel her heart beating next to mine and smell her freshly cleaned fur (Johnson's Lavendar Baby Shampoo). God, I miss her. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Monday, February 09, 2004 I couldn't sleep last night becuase I suddenly became overwhelmed with memories of Cookie. My apartment was so quiet and lonely and I couldn't believe so much time had gone by in my life without Cookie. I tried to sleep, but I couldn't because I was so sad -- I started crying -- I couldn't control it, it just happened. Then, I went to the other room, grabbed her little oak-polished-picture-frame-looking-urn and finally fell asleep...with Cookie on my bed next to me. Goodness, that sounds so sad... posted by lisa | linkorama | | Sunday, February 08, 2004 Today, I went to the Farmers Market to see the dog adoptions. There were a bunch of small dogs, many of them were Lhasa Apsos, and reminded me of Cookie. I had to see them, to be around them so I could see how I would react. I didn't break down in tears or resent them, but knew that I wasn't nearly ready for another dog. I figure if I ever do get another dog I either have to get a dog that isn't either a Shih Tzu or a Lhasa Apso (Cookie was a mix of the two) or a dog from the same family line as Cookie. It's as if the dog must either be related to her or be nothing like her. I am trying to find out of her breeder still exists, but I can't find him anywhere. Part of me hopes he's still around. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Thursday, February 05, 2004 Cookie never was a good sport when it came to picture taking becuase the camera flash always scared her, poor thing. I wish I would have been able to take more pictures of her. I only have the same few pictures to look at to remind me of her. Though there are times when I find a picture I didn't realize I had and it makes me sad. There was a picture I found of me lying on the floor and Cookie was lying on my stomach, looking tortured. I'd like to think the tortured look was due to the camera in view and not because I wasn't letting her get some peace and quiet away from me. Seeing the picture though just brought me back to when we took the picture and what it was like to live with her. I can't let her go...I still don't know how to and quite frankly, I just don't want to. I was just filling out my profile on orkut.com (it is similar tofriendster) and I came to the pet question. No, I don't have a pet (anymore) but I am having quite a time accepting that. I chose the "I love my pet(s)" option, but I hated not being able to write that I lived with Cookie still. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Wednesday, February 04, 2004 Sometimes people don't understand what I'm going through -- heck sometimes even I don't either. As my mom would say, losing Cookie, to me is like the death of a child. I realize that is quite a statement. Cookie came to live with me at a time in my life when I really couldn't stand children. I thought they were loud, annoying and a nuisance. Quite frankly, I had no patience for them at all. Then my parents asked me to watch Cookie while they went out of town and she never left. Almost instantly, having Cookie around brought out my maternal instincts and in the process taught me to be more patient, kind and above all, more loving. Taking care of Cookie taught me to care more about life especially now that I was responsible for another being instead of just myself. Those early days were tough because I was living in an apartment building that didn't allow pets. I had to sneak Cookie in and out of the building complex each time I took her out for potty -- 3 to 4 times a day. I'm sure the security guard was a little suspicious of me driving in and out in short spans of time. There were times though when I was sick or exhausted from the day and just wanted to sleep. I really didn't mind though and I would do it all over again. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Tuesday, February 03, 2004 I've discussed why I think I'm having such a hard time accepting Cookie's passing, but what I can't understand is why I'm having such a hard time letting it go. I don't seem to be able to even begin to let go. My issue isn't moving on though and getting another dog or whatnot, but i's just letting her go. They seem so similar, but yet I think they are very different (at least in my crazy mind). I guess if I can't accept it, I can't begin to let the issue go. While she was in my life though, I depended so much on Cookie -- she was a dog yes, but she saved me from lonliness, insanity and even from myself sometimes. She provided me with a companionship and friendship that I needed that only she could offer. I never realized the importance of pets and an unconditional support like hers that wasn't from a parent or a family member. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Monday, February 02, 2004 Today, it rained. It hasn't rained much this year yet and for that I'm grateful. I think I posted before that I used to love the rain when I was home with Cookie. Of course it was a pain for her to have to strap on the little red rain booties before I took her out to go potty, but it was afterwards, when I would lounge on the couch and she would sleep next to me that was cozy and relaxing. It was then, when I felt most happy and comfortable. The best was when it would rain on a weekend and I would light my fireplace and watch a movie or read a book and Cookie would sit on my lap. When Cookie first passed, I feared the rain knowing that it would make me too sad and make me miss her even more. I was lucky that it hasn't rained much, especially at night. Even now, as it is raining, it is still hard, but not as hard as it would have ben if it were still October, 2003. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Sunday, February 01, 2004 The first time I heard You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown I was with Cookie and when I heard the song, Happiness, I immediately got misty eyed (yes, I've always been rather emotional) and thought of how to me, Cookie was happiness. The song was basically about how much the small things mean -- ...Happiness is being alone ev'ry now and then.../And happiness is coming home again/...Happiness is anyone or anything at all, that's loved by you... Hearing the song at the time though, really struck me because to me, Cookie defined happiness. posted by lisa | linkorama | | |
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