And then there were none.
The sturm und drang of daily life stops most often when we suffer a loss.
She came to us with the name of Angel Baby. We shook our heads but she stayed Angel, that was a good fit for her sweet disposition. She came from rescue, so all we know are bits of possible life. She had a good first year or so. Then she was bartered about. And finally ended up with a ‘collector’ who had 50 dogs in a trailer. And there was a fire and some of them died and ours was scared of the fire in our fireplace and candles when we first got her.
But what joy she had in her endless, bounding run and her weakness for the instinctual demand to play fetch.
But in time she loved to lay next to a fire on a cold night. She was a friend to every animal, human or not, she met. Except perhaps for rats and gophers. She never developed an appreciation for them.
It was a protracted goodbye as her legs slowly gave out and she tended to breath hard and moan so as to seem in pain. And at some point she is only here because we can’t fathom saying goodbye and that is a poor reason to make another life suffer.
And it’s up to us to make the call. A responsibility that I would rather not face.
The quiet in the house will be overwhelming. The dog beds will be washed and bagged and wrapped. The bowls put away. No more water bowl to trip into and spill. And the tennis balls and toys – those must go to. Though it’s been a long while since last they were played with.
And the field across the street, a perfect field for dogs (one of the reasons we bought this house) that will become a foreign place for us now. Until perhaps, someday far away from today when the dog’s beds are unwrapped and the water bowls are ready to be spilled and toys once again sprout all over the floors for new friends.