I have watched this forum with interest recently, and seen messages for and from those of us who have lost treasured pets. Sadly, this morning I have become one of you.
My ex called in tears to say that our old Heinz-57 pit bull mix, who was diagnosed with aggressive cancer some two years ago (and given a month to live at that time), had gotten bad over the weekend, and needed to be put down, but that she could not deal with it herself. "Cello" was a rescue from a dog-fighting operation. We have no idea how old she was, as she was grown when she came into our family 14 years ago. She was butt-ugly, and skittish and fearful of everything back then, but responded immediately to our offerings and quickly became a stalwart member of the family. She was an outside dog, and asked for little other than a shady spot and some ground to dig a crater to wallow in.
When the ex and I went our separate ways many years ago, it was comforting for me to know that Cello was faithfully on guard, protecting my loved ones as I could no longer do. When I learned of her cancer, I fashioned a box for her that was like her, simple but strong and dignified. The ex and I picked out a place in her beloved backyard for her to rest, but she carried on for two more years without suffering in the slightest, in spite of the grim outlook, so I didn't have to dig that hole just yet... until today. The ex could not bear to be there at the end, but I wanted to be. So I sat and held my old friend as she went away peacefully.
She was everything a dog should be, and she was a lot of things I wish people could be. The hole I dug pales by comparison to the one in our hearts this day. So I ask that you join me in raising a glass... to old friends...
My ex called in tears to say that our old Heinz-57 pit bull mix, who was diagnosed with aggressive cancer some two years ago (and given a month to live at that time), had gotten bad over the weekend, and needed to be put down, but that she could not deal with it herself. "Cello" was a rescue from a dog-fighting operation. We have no idea how old she was, as she was grown when she came into our family 14 years ago. She was butt-ugly, and skittish and fearful of everything back then, but responded immediately to our offerings and quickly became a stalwart member of the family. She was an outside dog, and asked for little other than a shady spot and some ground to dig a crater to wallow in.
When the ex and I went our separate ways many years ago, it was comforting for me to know that Cello was faithfully on guard, protecting my loved ones as I could no longer do. When I learned of her cancer, I fashioned a box for her that was like her, simple but strong and dignified. The ex and I picked out a place in her beloved backyard for her to rest, but she carried on for two more years without suffering in the slightest, in spite of the grim outlook, so I didn't have to dig that hole just yet... until today. The ex could not bear to be there at the end, but I wanted to be. So I sat and held my old friend as she went away peacefully.
She was everything a dog should be, and she was a lot of things I wish people could be. The hole I dug pales by comparison to the one in our hearts this day. So I ask that you join me in raising a glass... to old friends...
Comment