I can barely define the shape of this moment in time

Last night, our dog, Riley, died. Today would have been her thirteenth birthday.

Riley had a long and wonderful life. She lived much longer than the person who locked her in a closet at a motel that was being torn down thought she would, and though she could be a huge pain in the ass, she was an important part of our family.

Riley was anxious and nervous to the point of being neurotic. She was terrified of the garden hose, had terrible arthritis in all of her joints, and was almost completely deaf. Still, she was happy these last few months, getting to sleep on a the couch whenever she wanted, or sleeping at my feet while I worked in my office. She didn’t want to play very much, but when she did I’d swear she was ten years younger. She still liked to take walks, but she was slow and stayed so close to Anne and me, she hadn’t needed a leash for almost a year.

She wasn’t crazy about Marlowe, and I think Marlowe knew it. Marlowe has so much energy, I think she sort of scared Riley, who was brittle and nervous as a result of it. But Marlowe always tried to help calm Riley down. She would lick her face and nuzzle her all the time, and she stayed out of Riley’s way the rest of the time.

Riley was the last direct connection we had to Ryan and Nolan’s childhoods. She has been part of their lives for so long, through so much and so many things, they lost a member of their family even more intensely than I did, and I have a huge IMADOG hole in my heart right now.

I want to take a second and share a moment Riley and I had several years ago, right after our dog Ferris had died. I was alone in our house because Anne was out of town, Ryan was in college, and Nolan was busy being a teenager. Ferris had died the day before, practically in my arms, in the lobby of the vet:

I saw Ferris’ empty dish last night when I fed Riley, and it unleashed an agonizing wave of sadness so overwhelming, I dropped to the floor in our living room and cried as hard and as long as I ever have in my life.

After she was finished eating, Riley came over to me and sniffed at my face. Through my tears and gasping sobs, I told her it was okay, I just missed Ferris a lot and I was sad.

She rubbed her face against my cheek and trotted into the family room. A moment later, she returned with her soggy tennis ball, which she gently put into my lap. She looked up at me, and then walked into the corner of the family room, where she picked up her rope – her favorite toy, which she brings with her to the front door whenever we come home – and brought it over to me. She set it on the ground next to me, and then laid down and put her head in my lap. I cried for a good long time, but I was comforted by Riley’s actions, even if I’m projecting my own feelings onto her. I felt like she could tell I was grieving, so she brought me the things that make her happy, before letting me cry on her until the fur on her neck was soaked with my tears. When I finally stopped, mostly because I was physically and emotionally exhausted, I felt a tiny bit better.

Riley was a pain in the ass sometimes. She was  complicated, damaged, and difficult, but she was ultimately a sweet and loving member of our family.

I really miss her, and her terrible breath, and that wonderfully derpy look on her face that always said “IMADOG!”

IMADOG

Bye bye, piles. I love you.

A small request: if you choose to comment, please don’t post that Rainbow Bridge thing. I know you mean well, but it has always made me uncomfortable.

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474 thoughts on “I can barely define the shape of this moment in time”

  1. I am so sorry for your loss. You gave Riley a wonderful home, something she had never had before. This feeling you have is love. All the love you gave Riley.

  2. I’m so sorry for your loss. I will miss her sweet IMADOG face. Thank you for sharing her with us.

  3. Wil, so sorry for your loss. I’ve written quite a few of these over the years, several fairly recently. I know how they feel, unfortunately.

    Just know that those years you spent with her, that she spent with you, despite her anxiety, were the best years of her life. And for a dog, each of those years, months, days, hours, minutes were eternities in and of themselves. Just think, if you ignore our human perception of time and space, she’s enjoying each of those eternities forever.

  8. So sorry for your loss. I’ve enjoyed seeing all the pictures of Riley and I hope that your happy memories with her will help you heal. I don’t know what this rainbow bridge is that you speak of, but I can safely say I won’t post it. 🙂 You are a good human, Wil Wheaton. Riley was lucky to have you.

  9. I lost my dog, Toni three years ago. She was almost 16 years old, with a laundry list of special health problems. I’d had her since high school. I was manic depressive and it went untreated for most of my adolescent years. There were times when I contemplated suicide, but I couldn’t leave her alone. She would know when I was upset and sleep near my head, or put her paw on my hand. Toni kept me sane. I still miss her. I haven’t been able to get another dog, it just doesn’t feel right yet. She lived long enough to keep me going and pull myself together. We are lucky people, who have known a great love. My condolences.

  10. I was going to tweet you, but 140 characters wouldn’t be enough. I’m so sorry. Riley was lovely and I loved IMADOG! Always made me laugh. As others have said, allow yourself to grieve because a member of your family has died. If anyone says, “But she was just a dog”, then pity them because they have no idea how much a pet is a true member of the family. Your story about Riley trying to make you happy after Ferris died made me cry. She obviously adored you just as much as you adored her.

  12. I’m so sorry for your loss. For your family’s loss. Lots of love, squishes and all kinds of fuzzy thoughts. <3

  13. I’ve shed more tears for my cats than people. Because the cats were my family. I was responsible for them and I always wondered if I’d let them down. They gave all of their lives for us and we for them. So sorry for your loss.

  14. What a great dog you had. I have a special fondness for the ones who just overflow with personality. You’ve been blessed, which doesn’t make it easier. I’m very sorry for your grief.

  15. I want to take a moment to say, ever since I’ve started following you on a semi regular basis I’ve grown to really admire you as a person. I’m very sorry for your loss. My family recently lost thier oldest cat, and even though we knew it was coming and her death came as no surprise in the end it was still a devastating blow. I’ve been estranged from my mother who owned the cat since october and hearing about her death hit harder than I had expected it to despite beleiving id mentally prepared for the blow. There were days I wanted to find a similarly built stuffed animal retreat into a corner, hold it and cry “my kitty” over and over as if that would somehow make the lack of a goodbye feel better. They leave such a hole when they’re gone more than you ever expect them to. My heart goes out to you, I’ve lost several pets in my lifetime and It doesn’t ever seem to get any easier. Im so very sorry that someone as awesome as you has to deal with that pain.

  16. I’m so sorry for your loss Wil, I recently had to put my 14 year old kitty down and I cry whenever I think about her. My friends keep telling me to just remember that she was happy and knew that she was loved, so I’m going to say the same to you. She knew you and your family loved her and she loved all of you back, she was definitely a happy dog, you could tell in all the pictures. Our pets become part of our family, and things are never the same after losing them.

  19. So sorry, Wil, Anne, Ryan, and Nolan. Riley and Cubby. It really sucks having to outlive your best friends. Take care of yourselves. I’m going down to my local rescue this weekend to sign up as a volunteer in their names (and for my dog Pumpkin, too, who I lost a couple of years ago and still think about every day. Miss you).

  21. Wil I have lost three of my lovely pets in the last few months. Like you I will always remember the unconditional love they gave me. When it is time you will rescue another who needs you desperatly and give love to that wonderful soul. I will keep you and your family in my thoughts and know nothing I can say will soothe you or release your pain. I always make a memorial gesture for each pet I lost. Write their story and promise their soul they will always be remembered. Xo
    Rosemary Wilson

  22. Wil,
    I am terribly sorry for your loss. My family is coming to grips with the fact that Bob the Dog, the old man and the closest thing I have ever had to a brother is nearing the end of his days.

    I’m not a religious person… not really. But I do believe there is something after and in the power of thoughts directed in times of sadness. You are in my thoughts and what I still call prayers…

  23. I shed a tear for sweet Riley, my condolences to you & your family, I’ll miss your “imadog” posts!

  25. So sorry for your loss. The quote that made me feel (a tiny bit) better when I lost my damaged, difficult, boneheaded, wonderful Jessidog was: “It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them, and every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart. If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they are.” -Anonymous Peace to you and your family.

  29. Sorry to hear about Riley.
    My condolences to you loss.

    Take the time to grieve, pets become part of us due to their perpetual cute childlike attitude. Losing them is like losing a child in family.

  30. I’m sorry for your loss. The furry little buttheads just get all up under our skin, don’t they? I’m glad you gave her such a loving home after she had a rough start. I will miss seeing her pictures myself.

  34. My thoughts are with you Wil. Hard not to go spiraling down. Hug your wife, hug your kids and Marlowe and the cat if he’ll let you, and mourn your family’s loss.

  35. I’m so sorry 🙁 Dogs are wonderful friends and family members, and they are never with us long enough. Remember all of the good times you shared, and all of the quirks that made her so special. Our condolences to the entire family.

  36. So sorry Wil. We have a dog we often ‘hate’…. That dog is attached to me all the time and although mine is a giant pain because she is also ‘damaged’, I know a piece of my heart will go when she does.

  38. What a touching tribute to a special companion. Sounds like Riley had a lot of love in her life! And she loved you back with all her heart.

  39. Much love to you, Anne and the boys. And to Marlowe and Seamus too. Riley was a lucky lucky girl to have been part of a family so filled with love xx

  40. It’s always been touching reading your words about how much you love your family – wife, kids, and pups included. Much love to all of you as you remember Riley. She was a lucky dog.

  41. I’m so sorry to heat about this Wil, my thoughts are with you and yours. It’s always hard when a member of the family passes 🙁

  42. My own big, white, IMADOG was settled in for the night right in the middle of the bed between my husband & I when I inadvertently woke her while crying my way through this blog post. I’ve gotten to know your animals through twitter, and the loss of one pains me as it reminds me that my Bella won’t live forever. And the picture of her empty spot on the rug nearly broke my heart. God bless you for the 13 years of love you offered a pup with no hope. Hugs to you.

  44. I’m so sorry for your loss. I know your family gave her a good life though and while she’ll be missed, know she was happy to be a part of your family for the many years that she was. We have our own IMADOG who is getting up there in years. I know it’ll be heartbreaking when she goes.

  45. I’m so so sorry, there are many clichés and comments of sympathy that we normal use. Tried and tested, because we never really know what to say about grief and death.
    Riley was luck to have been found and then adopted by people who truly cared about her. I know it is scant comfort, but you gave her a great home and a great life and she repaid that in all the wonderful doggy ways she could.
    Grieve for her, but know that you did wonderful things for her during her life, when it made a difference, and be proud of that.
    Virtual arm hovering hugs to you and your family.

  47. Saying the final goodbye can never be anything other than varying degrees of awful, especially to fur people that mark important chapters of life. After our first daughter was stillborn last October, a neurotic, abused and surely slightly insane rescue we named Pi was one of the things that pulled us forward and back into daily reality, and bit by bit, joy. Then my brother passed three months to the day later, and within a month Crowley the cat adopted us to once again move us forward and help us cope. Along with my first pup Sweetie, these pets have sat patiently through more weeping and raging than even the best of friends could take. I cannot imagine what it’ll be like to say, “So long, sweet friend,” to any of them when the time comes. I can only hope for as many years as you had with Riley.Our hearts go out to you and yours.

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