My little buddy Frank passed away Thursday. I thought it would be easy to take. He had gotten very old. He could not see. He could not hear. If he got to running down the driveway on a walk, I had to chase him down. Luckily, he couldn't run that fast.
His stiff, quick movements of his legs when he walked made me think of a gunfighter. And sometimes he was. He would tell the other dogs to move out of his way. I watched or placed him alone with the right dogs. Usually, I had to make my young dog Boduke stop hassling him. Duke would look at me like,"I want to but I won't." Two nights before, I had to chastise Frankie to leave Duke alone. Duke loved being protected.
Frank had a stroke. His best friend and partner in life, Lester who was a golden retriever mix had a stroke at 15 and passed within minutes. Frank was not as lucky. I took him to the vet to be put down. Frank was four months shy of turning 17. What tore at me the most is I knew he thought the vet would help him.
I don't know what happens we die. I think there may be an afterlife. When you have someone very close to you to pass, you get a "last goodbye". Whether they are real or imaginings, they feel real. My dad was fond of the "poo" boy. I hope he is there with all the other pets with my dad.
The funeral was quiet with just me and Duke. I dug the hole and laid a worn towel across the small grave. My family has come out for a few words with other pets. I guess it was too painful with Frank. I laid him on the towel and covered his body with the other and quickly covered him with Earth. I live in the country and so laid concrete blocks over his grave. Visiting opossums and like would disturb his small body.
My sister came out and said a few words. She was surprised I had finished so quickly. Duke watched me and he shivered when I put Frank in the ground. Daisy was surprisingly sweet to me. JoJo was acting very sad. You wonder what dogs comprehend. Louise has taken his place on the bed.
Anyway, life moves on. It's two days later and I still feel the sadness. I knew he was old, arthritic, had a collapsing trachea and did not have long. What I remember is him running through the doorway with the chihuahua's on the big bark festival walking in the front pasture. Rest in Peace sweet boy.
A mix of thoughts, experiences, flash fiction, poetry and humor of Ann Bennett.
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I'm so sorry for your loss. Even when they are old and in failing health, it's not easy to say goodbye. We have a Yorkie-Poo who is fifteen and has issues. We never know how long they will stay with us.
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