Status Update

I had to make a choice that was not mine; I had to say goodbye for the last time.
– Shinedown

It’s with a heavy heart that we update everyone on what’s been going on. Two months ago, on February 14th, we had to say goodbye to a very special furbaby. Mina had been in D’s life for 17 long years. She was a gorgeous Jack Russell Terrier. She had the softest coat I’ve ever felt on a dog. Even in her old age, her coat remained soft. Such a beautiful dog. She was so intelligent, too. I swear, sometimes it seemed she thought she was a little person. She’d prop herself up on the arm of the couch, and she acted as if she was above all the other animals. She was a prissy and a total princess.

Some people don’t understand how severe the loss of a pet can be. To those of us without children, the loss of a cherished pet can cut as deeply as the loss of a family member. They are family. D raised Mina from a puppy and took care of her for 17, almost 18 years. 18 years. That’s literally the time it takes to raise a child to adulthood. In a way, our pets are even more constant in our lives than children. Where kids will grow up and develop their own lives, pets stay with you daily. They’re there when you wake up, when you go to the kitchen or to the bathroom, they’re there when you’re settling in to bed for the night. You feed them every day, groom them, care for them. When they get sick, you schedule your life around taking care of them.

When you lose a pet like that, it leaves a hole that nothing will ever quite fill. D and I have been friends for 16 years, so that little dog was there for our entire friendship. She was always there. We live in different states, and D would even bring her when she would visit me, so she truly was always with us.

I came to be with D after she had to say goodbye. It felt lonely without Mina there. She would always pace the house in the evening, making her rounds, her nails clicking quietly on the wood while we were watching movies or playing games. Even though there were other dogs in the house, it still somehow felt so quiet with her gone. I would look over at her empty place on the couch and almost say, “Where’s Mina?” before I had to catch myself.

It’s been two months now and I’m still in tears as I try to write this. Mina wasn’t even my dog, but I loved her as part of the family. When D and I met, we had our matching furbabies. I had my pure white, long haired, blue eyed Turkish Angora named Zippy who was also a total priss and a little prince. I had to say goodbye to him a few years ago. My heart still aches over him, and now that Mina has joined him, it’s hard to take.

I share all this mostly to explain why we’ve taken a hiatus on The Cabin Girl and our other works. I can’t say right now when our minds will be back into the work. We’ll keep everyone updated, and hopefully we can get our pirate adventure romance back on track sooner rather than later.

Goodbye, Mina. You were loved by everyone who met you.

-A