Daphne's mud facial after digging in the creek for a rockWith the help of our vet, the sublime Dr. Adriano Betton, Daphne died peacefully last night in her yard. We buried her--along with a collection of her beloved rocks and Rosie's ashes--not far from the shed out back. She's in the company of the many cats, dogs, hermit crabs, and pet mice who have graced our home.
Daphne was 14 and a free spirit right up to the end.
She would have had a good laugh at our final moment together. And the dog did laugh--and smile.
It was dark by the time we wheeled her down to the end of the yard in my trusty barrel. I just couldn't bring myself to dump her into her grave, like a load of compost. So I gathered her now-skinny body in my arms and tried to lower us both in. I couldn't see and didn't realize the depth of the hole. Together, we tumbled into the grave. My husband Bill, who has a bad hip and couldn't lift her but had offered to get a flashlight and I refused, watched in horror as dog and wife disappeared into a cloud of lime dust. (We had lined the hole with lime.) I was lucky, suffering only a few minor scratches and a knee bruise. With Daphne, we always expected the unexpected--and got it.
To Tina, Daphne was Mom.
Dosing on the screened porch with LucyRest in peace, friend. You had a full romp.
Prompt: Write about a pet that is no longer here.
1 comment:
My heart goes out to each of you at the loss of dear Daphne!! We had to make a similar decision with our beloved Cinnamon, a male collie-shepard mix, who we adopted through the Humane Society in Tallahassee, Florida about 1975. Our 3 children 11, 9, & 3 had "pooled" their Christmas money to pay the $30 adoption fee. After taking him home we had him checked out by our vet who told us he had heart worms! Cinnamon was approximately 3 years old but the Humane Society said if he had any abnormalities we could return him & select another dog. My husband was all for returning Cinnamon & getting a healthy animal rather than risking ending up with a dead dog if the heart worm treatment &/or disease (if we didn't treat him) killed him. Bonnie, our 11 year old who herself suffered from cystic fibrosis, knew if we took him back he would immediately be "put to sleep" since he would be considered unadoptble. For several evenings in a row the dinner table conversation centered around what we should do about Cinnamon. The 3 kids all wanted to treat him pledging their allowances for the next 3 years if necessary while Gerry was holding out for another dog. Bonnie knew time was running out & she had to do something "dramatic" to convince her Dad that Cinnamon must get medical treatment! With absolute determination she "played" the winning card! "When you found out there was something wrong with me, you didn't take me back!" Those words were like a bullet straight into Gerry's heart & he "surrendered" without a fight! Cinnamon not only survived the treatment but out lived both Bonnie (1982) & David (1978) who we had adopted knowing he too had cystic fibrosis. In 1983 Gerry took Cinnamon to the vet for the last time & made the decision to end his pain & suffering. Joy has come again with another child as well multiple pets, but Just like Bonnie & David, cinnamon's place in the family lives on.
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