Tango died yesterday. One minute, he was perfectly fine, the next, he was dead. Moments before he was gone, he was trying to get my attention so I would let him go outside. A few minutes after that, mom is telling me he's gone. We found him floating in the pond. We think he had a stroke while trying to get a drink. I know his vision and balance was somewhat crappy, but he's only ever fallen into that pond once in his life. He was so indignant and embarrassed he hadn't done it since. He had his little "Attack Poodle" shirt on.

His 17th birthday was in 8 days.

Today, it's 7 days away.

I've never felt so alone in my entire life. I kept thinking I could hear him barking at me, trying to get me to open the door, only to look out there and see his grave.

I'm just grateful it was quick.

But I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know how to not have him. Every single crappy moment I had to live through, I had him by my side as a source of comfort.

I don't know how to be sad without him trying to make it better.

I keep trying to reach for him, to listen for his snorts and grunts, and he's not there. I had a hard time sleeping last night, because I didn't hear his tags jingling or him snorting as he made himself a little nest out of the mountain of pillows and blankets I had laid down there for him.

I have nothing to take care of right now. I don't know what to do with myself. I want my baby.