The house is so quiet on Bowen, I could go out into the night and listen to daffodils unfurl.
Yesterday I took my dog for his last forest walk, short but green. On our way home, despite the fact he was very unsteady on his feet…he took a sharp left and booted it down into a gutter to get his paws cooled with black mud and lick at the spring run off gurgling over the stones and moss.
I’ve never been through this before. Having to be the one to say when. The day before, he had a bad spell and he gave me “the look” the “I’m so done”. I was grateful to have that sureness.
When I phoned up the vet I waved off all things sentimental and just wanted to get down to business. Simple. Keep the lights on, it’s fine, sign the forms for a public cremation, just let me have the collar, I don’t need time alone, we’ve said our good-byes. The vet laid out a fuzzy blanket on the floor and gave him all the treats he could eat. He hasn’t cared for treats in…eons. Licks them and leaves them. But this morning, he wolfed down about sixteen. She explained, “they’re liver.” Liver for a dyer. I felt bad for my puns. He wagged his tail. He didn’t even feel the needle. He just fell asleep with his chops on his paws with me blubbering, “thank you for being such a good pal”. At peace. If only I could go so easily in my old age.
I went home with a sense of resolve and deep relief and immediately threw out the dog food and bundled up the dog blanket and cleaned out the dog bowls. No trace. I drove over to Vancouver and did the same thing to the condo. Then I had my car detailed by a fancy over priced sports car place. “We can be dog hair free now” I said to my daughter. “Get ready cuz there’s going to be a BIG change and I’m going to get CRAZY clean!”
Heading back to Bowen I stop for dinner with the kids. There’s no rush. There’s no dog to walk or feed.
Tonight I can go to bed and actually get a good sleep.
But it’s 1am and I still haven’t laid myself down. What am I waiting for?
I’m waiting…
I’m waiting…to hear the clickety clack of paws on the wood floor, I’m waiting to hear the yip to come in from outside, I’m waiting for the snore by the fire. But I have none of these sounds. I have a clean hearth and a very quiet night. And daffodils.
