It's been 43 days since Bailey left. I have never felt such a profound sense of sadness, emptiness, and grief. I've never cried so much or felt more confused in my life. I know that pets in our lives are a short-term bargain, but it's so difficult to understand how the greatest part of you can just walk out of your life one day.
I'm grateful that I knew every day of Bailey's physical life, that I did know exactly what I had and exactly how lucky I was. I used to ask Bailey out loud, "Why me? How did I get so lucky to have you?" I've said so many times that Bailey is perfect, and he was. And in some funny ways his passing was perfect, too. I had been on break from work from December 18th to February 7th. Yes, a very long break where I got to be home with Bailey. He began to decline on February 7th. He passed February10th and I had to be on set the next morning, February 11th shooting, "A Series of Unfortunate People." As horrible as it was, it would have been more horrible to be home without Bailey and without that wonderful distraction. The veterinarian who put Bailey down was the biggest douche-bag in veterinary medicine. Even in the darkest moment of my life with Bailey, there was something to laugh about.
About two years ago, I began grieving his death. I know that sounds nuts, but every few months, I'd lay awake in bed, thinking about the fact that he'd leave one day, and I'd just cry and cry. Of course, he hated this. Bailey was so full of love, but oh boy, he HATED it when I cried.
I will not go into the details of Bailey's passing because it's just too painful. I will say we spent the last day together outside, Bailey, Phil and I. He had a chicken breast and held a tennis ball for me. He had two bad days and then he told me under no uncertain terms that he was ready to go, and I listened.
Every day has felt like a bad dream. I feel like a kid who was running around having a great life who had no idea just how very sad life can be. I remember looking at random people, not understanding how they could be smiling and happy when they didn't even have a dog. Happiness without Bailey just didn't seem possible.
Everyone who offered advice to me said much of the same 1) It just takes time. 2) You'll never really get over it. And they're right. Time has helped. It still often feels like time can't pass quickly enough. I still have moments when I'd really like for my physical life to be over so I can be with Bailey again. And I absolutely will never get over losing Bailey. It is a part of me that will always remain changed.
Several days after Bailey passed I made an appointment with an animal communicator to talk with Bailey. For me, that was very stupid and an act of desperation. Very soon after, a film producer/director asked me to do the voice of a dog for one of his movies. I remember thinking as I stood there performing large chunks of dialogue to a big microphone, in a "dog voice," how ridiculous it was to try to put human words to a dog's train of thinking. If dogs could really talk, it wouldn't be much more than, "Life is good. I love you. What's for dinner?" And trying to make human words speak for a dog was not helpful to me. I regret having kept that appointment with the animal communicator, but it did teach me something very important: Stop looking outside of yourself for the answers. You already have them and Bailey told you EVERYTHING.
Humphrey will be the next dog in my life. Bailey was perfect so I'm convinced Humphrey will be a major pain in the ass, but we'll love him anyway. And Bailey will always be the best thing that ever happened to me.
I made a website in Bailey's honor. He deserves so much more than that but please visit and leave a comment on the "Bailey Memories" page if you'd like to share a Bailey story. Professor Bailey
