Awwwww

Indulge me a little bit. I found this in my drafts folder. I wrote it after we put Buddy down.

I don't write poetry. Ever. So it's bad. But it wasn't about being good, it was about expressing sadness after loss.

The house is quiet

The tears are shed

He's gone

As far as he was concerned

he was one of us

he was a person, not a dog

he liked our food

he ate chocolate

and chicken wings

Dogs aren't supposed to eat those things, they'll get sick

He loved his girl

would play games with her

would watch over her

protect her when her brothers would rough house

I'm not leaving the toilet seat up

it feels strange

We don't have to close the door quickly so he doesn't streak out

it feels strange

He's not here anymore

it feels strange

The Immortal

We had to put Buddy down last month.  Like a phantom limb, it feels like he’s still here. 

 

 

 

August 18, 1991 – September 11, 2009

So long Budman. 

Even now, it’s difficult to write about it.

I’ve never had to put an animal down before so I had no idea how it worked.  Got some wonderful advice and support from my sister-in-law Char, then I called a few vet offices so I could get a sense – glad I did, since some places put animals down differently. 

We chose to take him in and the nurse anesthetized him.  He fell asleep while we pet him so he wasn’t too scared.  Meg and I were allowed to stay as long as we liked – which was about 10 minutes after he fell asleep.  We left and the doctor’s office took care of the rest.  We chose not to keep his ashes, though we could have.

The vet sent us an impression of his paw.  Meg and I cried.  The last little dirt that was on his little paw is in that impression.  We cried over that too. 

I’m still afraid to leave the door outside open, for fear that he will run out.  When I wake up in the morning, I can still feel him by my bedside.  I still look for him to be under my feet in the kitchen. 

So much for not being a dog person.