Mr. S and I were out running errands and stopped off at the vet’s office to get a refill on Dottie’s pills. On our way in, we walked past a man standing at the open back of a truck, which had a blanket and what looked like something black and furry lying in it. He greeted us with a hello as we walked by. Hm, that didn’t look good.
While we waited our turn, Mrs. Vet was conferring with a woman at the desk in quiet tones. Uh-oh. Meanwhile another person picked up her wiggly miniature dachshund who, according to her, had “just had his man-parts removed” and was eager to get home. I didn’t blame him.
The lady at the counter left and we transacted our business. When we went outside, the woman from the counter was now standing by the truck, and we gazed over as discreetly as possible, a little more curious. She caught our eyes and said, “Our baby’s almost gone,” as she petted him gently. We went over to see him. She told us he was 15 years old and “worn out.” Indeed, he was still breathing, very softly, but otherwise lying quite still. We told her that we had made a similar trip to the vet a few years ago, only our baby was gone when we brought her in. She told us what a good dog he had been all his life. I said it was a good thing that he would be able to go home and be in a familiar place at the end, and she agreed. I asked if I could pet him, and she said yes. As I stroked the rough black fur, I don’t know who was more teary, his mom or the strangers who had stopped over to say hello and goodbye. We talked with her about where we had placed our doggies when they were gone, and where this doggie would rest. As we left, we wished them well in the time that remained with him. Poor baby. We never even learned his name.
You were a good boy, little black doggie. I hope you go gentle into that good night.
(Excuse me, I seem to have something in my eye)
I KNOW better than to open a thread like this.
In college, some friends and I stopped our car by another on a back road where we all gathered around a beautiful Yellow Lab that was in it’s last gasps after being hit and left by a car. A man that saw it from his porch, and a couple that came by after were there.
The family that the dog belonged to was gone, no one knew how he got out that day, but he seemed to be feeling very peaceful - or weakened as we all stood and took turns leaning down to stroke his head and talk to him. Before the sherrif could get there, we watched him pass away quietly.
Are you done with that kleenex box yet?
When you’re done, pass the tissue box this way. The cats hate it when I drip tears on them.
Never mind, my sweet Sugar Magnolia is licking them off, with comforting purrs.
My puppydogs are currently out in their kennel, where they usually stay until 8 pm or so. But I think I’m going to go bring them in RIGHT NOW and pet them silly.
On the way home Mr. S and I talked out the pets who had died in our arms: Miss Emily on the way to the vet’s, of course; and a parakeet and a guinea pig as we held them in our hands. Others were gone when we found them, of course. But I think I would rather be there to give what measure of comfort I could.
This was the first time I had been with someone else’s pet at its last, though, and there was just something . . . about it. I’m glad the lady shared her doggy and her grief with us, if only for those few moments.
Dammit if we don’t know that day is coming when we get them, but it’s never a day I admit will come.
A company I used to work at would give you 2 days off if your dog or cat died. I think all companies should do that. It’s a family member.
::sniff::
I told myself not to read this!
So sad, but happy for the wonderful life black doggie lived.
Damn it. Something in my eye, too.
It’s the dogs, you know? Dog is just a three-letter word for love.
Well, I guess I needed a good cry. (We need a tear-squirting smiley.)
I know Feather will be gone some day, but I can’t imagine how I will be able to surf for hours without her sleeping on her blanket under the table. I rarely see her come and go, but somehow she’s always in the same room as me.
In my life, 3 dogs, 4 cats, two horses…whether they die of old age, illness, or you help them go quietly it always hurts.
Your post made me cry as well. Currently I have 2 dogs, 2 cats and 1 horse…I know they days will come when when I will cry over them they way I cried over this black doggie I never even met. Animals…they just do so much for us.
And they never lie to you. Ever.