It Had Been Six Months

It Had Been Six Months, 09/18/2011

 

It had been six months since Bart died.  He jumped out of the car, pinched a nerve and froze his hind legs.

 

We put him down, “What do you do with the body?”  “He’s going to an animal cemetery.”  “What kind of a grave?”  “Big one. Animals are dropped in.”

 

We cremated him and, of course, the best laid plans of mice and men so ofta go a glae.

 

Sacred ashes were supposed to be scattered along his beloved (except when the sand was so hot it burned his paw pads) south trail of the Saugatuck Dunes near the shore of Lake Michigan.

 

He rests in a box on the dresser in the guest bedroom.

 

Bart was with her since he was a pup. He helped her get through the three toughest years of her life.  Through the death of husband Mike.

 

Six months after Bart’s death, my wife Chris announced that she was ready.  We went to the Human Society and met the Chocolate who would become Buddy to us.

 

Flea bitten old geezer with something disgustingly ugly hanging from his eye.  We took him directly to the vet’s.  “Clean him up, please, and take off that ugly thing hanging from his eye.”

 

He had the worst breath in ten states.  A lab who wouldn’t chew except to eat.  Who woulda believed?

 

A year and four operations later, the vet said, “One more operation and the eyeball is going to drop out.”

 

Then the cancer went in instead of out.  Convulsions, arms wrapped tight trying to stop the shaking. “Oh, no, Buddy.  Please, guy, don’t die. Please.”

 

What a good boy.  So quiet, so gentle, so loving.  We always left him out to do his business and he always came right back to the door.  A stray who really didn’t want to go away.  He was home for a year.

 

He’s on the dresser with Bart.

 

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