The not knowing is pretty hard to take, finding him and laying him to rest is a good way to start the healing process.
It's just two years, four months, and 5 days since I lost my ol' Scully. One of the worst kicks I have ever taken in my life, and it is still a sore spot that I keep exploring like my tongue probing the socket of a lost tooth. Someone sent me a private message explaining grief is the measure of how well you loved the now lost. Give yourself the time and opportunity to do that grieving, it's a way of celebrating just how damn good that dog was for you. And then when it is time to move on, you will.