This wasn't taken today.
Today, Petey the dog had to be euthanized. He's been in my life over a decade. The real story took place yesterday, as he did what he has loved to do from the moment I met him - sneak between the feet of humans who wanted him to go in the backyard. He tasted the sweet air of freedom. Despite his age, he was feeling frisky. He was chased. He was offered treats. He was offered a ride in the car. None of it was as valuable to him as chasing sunshine, dodging laughing children and adults, bouncing across a running stream, visiting all the dogs in the neighbhorhood and streaking through the woods.
That's how I want to think of him. He had the very best last day he could have ever had.
In the dark, someone hit my dog and let him run off hurt. They didn't stop to see that they'd broken his back and paralyzed his back legs. Someone in the neighboor next to mine saw him and scooped him up and brought him into their house, where he spent a scary night on a soft sheepskin pillow, but could not be coaxed to eat or drink.
One ugly thought: I really hope he screwed up that person's car, and I hope it never drives the same, ever again.
The moment I saw him, and saw his back, I was sure it was broken. Mom held him in her arms as we drove down the street, but he'd struggle whenever I spoke, so as I drove, I reached my arm back to stroke his head.
The exam didn't take long. The shot didn't take long. It didn't take long for him to leave me. He's in a box, buried in the corner of my back yard. He is sleeping on his favorite pet bed. I couldn't have it in the house anymore.
I'm sorry Mollie. I love you. But Petey was my first, and my favorite. Mollie has never been without him.
Petey, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You did it your way.
--Laura
Saturday, April 10, 2010
In Memoriam: Petey the dog
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Very sorry to hear about your loss. A touching tribute.
Pete
Post a Comment