Читать книгу Riveted - Jay Crownover - Страница 7

So I’m sure it’s no surprise that I consider myself kind of a badass (on occasion at least). Not much fazes me. I’m pretty willing and able to roll with the punches and I’ve always been a “take the bull by the horns and make him your bitch” kind of gal. That being said there are things that are bigger and badder than me, things that scare the ever-living stuffing out of me and I really didn’t stop to think about how I handled the fear, or rather didn’t handle it, until I started working on this book.

If you follow me on social media at all I’m sure you know I have three dogs that I’m obsessed with. They are my best furry friends and my family. I love them unconditionally and fiercely. The boy Italian greyhound, Duce, (I know, I know, it isn’t spelled right, but even before writing books I was doing weird stuff with names) is getting older and last year he got sick … and I mean really sick. It was terrifying. It was heartbreaking and I handled it like shit. I broke down and turned into a tantrum-throwing idiot, which helped my dog and the situation zero percent. Quite frankly I didn’t know what to do or how to help him and that lack of control, no matter how much money I threw at the problem, turned me into a lunatic. I was terrified that I was going to lose him even though logically I knew he couldn’t stick around forever.

Eventually I got him to an amazing veterinarian … shout-out to Northwest Animal Hospital here in Colorado Springs and Doctor Sudduth, who took great care of him, got him diagnosed, and promised that it wasn’t his time to go yet. Duce is still old, still sickly, but he’s on meds and kicking right along. The last year was a struggle but we spent it together at home for the most part, which means I owe my readers and everyone that supports my books even more than you will ever know.

None of it changes the fact that I’m eventually going to have to say good-bye.

It still scares me. It makes me tear up even thinking about it. It’s going to be one of the hardest things I’m ever going to have to do … but writing this book … focusing on how Church handles love and loss, how we have this stoic, tough-as-nails soldier that has been through hell and back, but has things bigger and badder than he is that he can’t get out from underneath, was eye-opening. No matter what kind of armor we wear, all of it has a chink, a dent that speaks to a battle we fought and lost.

I know now that when the time comes I want to focus on the good, on the years we spent together, and all the wonderful memories my furry little guy gave to me. I don’t want any of that goodness and enduring love to be overshadowed by the pain of letting go. I need to be strong when the little guy can’t be … seriously, he’s only like seventeen pounds … so small to be poked, prodded, and medicated the way he is. He handles it like a boss though.

I can’t lie and say I’m not still scared, terrified even. Every time I leave home for an event I spend most of my free time checking in on the old man. But I like to think that I now have the where withal to be there for my four-legged bestie the way he has always been there for me.

So yeah … this entire book was kind of inspired by my sick dog … the good and the bad … Church and Dixie represent both sides of that … lol … I promise it will make sense when you read it.

Welcome to my love and loss …

Xoxo

Jay