I knew enduring the day without him might be bad but it was a lot worse than I expected.
I was going through his old photos in my phone and realized how much photos of him I have archived on old SD cards and usb drives. So I randomly googled if such media go bad after extended periods. Guess what. They literally rot on the inside.
It is called bit rot and it happens because the way solid state cards and drives work is by using small electrical currents that tell gates to whether open or close– denoting binary ones and zeros. After long periods of time without use, the electrical charge can dissipate which causes data corruption. No one told me n I don’t think most people even know.
So I started to look for memory cards of Moby tucked away. Tracking them down one by one. By 3am I was exhausted–decluttering, cleaning, frantically searching took its toll. My mind reassured me by telling me to learn to detach. The images matter, but they’re not gonna bring him back. I’d already lost him. These remnants of him are not him.
I cried a lot. It was a blur, but I think most of the crying was on his bday, which coincides with the Super Bowl. Some more tears the day after. Bawling. Yelling. Pain. My chest heaved after tears ran dry.
And now wondering if I should get more pups between bouts of sadness and guilt. Wouldn’t it be nice. Feelings of it being disloyal to my first borne (okay, first puppy, moby) are slowly easing. But the time commitment and eventual heartache still makes it overwhelmingly hard to jump back into pupup rearing.
i just want to hold him again. I miss you baby boy. I went to Brackett today and climbed onto the tallest rock you used to love. I saw the steep hill we ascended and remembered how I pushed you by the butt up the slipper rocky slope. I am sad you’re gone but I’d never associate you with sadness. Playful and stubborn, yes. Not sad. Hungry and happy, friendly and cunning. I hope I will be able to put my arms around your fuzzy, thick neck and pretend to twist it off. Then kiss your head and sniff it. Huff your ears, to make sure they’re free of infection, of course. And then tell you it’s okay you don’t need you-know-what applied to them. Your mommy misses you too. I miss your interactions. Mommys awwws and oooohs. You lived your life to the fullest and I am so honored and happy I got to be there to witness it and share all the good times. I miss showering you with love. And also telling you electric cords are not edible. Oh, Mobias. Is all the heartache and tears worth it?? If I had to choose whether to give you 13 years of treats, walks, training (& scolding), hugs and snuggles all over again? In a heartbeat.
Moby's Stories Online 