After Effects of Euthanization

I have taken Teddy's death very hard for some reason.
Ever since Tuesday I have barely gotten out of bed for some reason.
I feel like my body weighs about 1,000 pounds instead of it's usual
300 of so (haha).

The house has been so q-u-i-e-t since Teddy's been gone. I didn't
realize just how disruptive he was from moment to moment in the dog's
lives - and now how empty my lap constantly is, and how awful it is
not having something something following me around all the time asking
to be picked up and crying all the time, all the time crying, or
growling, or squeaking because he stepped on something, or someone
stepped on him, or he heard something outside so he starts barking -
which would start everyone to barking. But there was nothing like
saying "you want a piece of cheese?" to making him smile and his body
would wiggle and we'd go to the fridge and I'd unwrap a piece of
processed cheese. It was his favourite thing in the world. It was
soft and mushy and he could eat it easily with his bad teeth. And he
was happy for a minute. A minute after that I could pick him up and
touch him in a bad spot and he'd give me the bite of my life - but I
accepted it unflinchingly because I knew it wasn't his fault - it was
because he thought he was going to be hit for whatever reason. It
wasn't his fault.

After Buttercup goes I don't think I'll be getting any more small dogs
- they are way too hard on the heart. If I survive Buttercup going.
Look at this face. I took these pictures tonight. She's trying her
best this week. Daisy and Charlie are too. Grief is something that
you have to live through, and it would seem that the depth of my grief
is unfortunately directly proportionate to the level of my love for
him.