Tuesday, April 30, 2019
Even his most aggravating habits were part of our lives...
Tonight, though, there's the remainder of my son's sandwich on a plate in the sink... there's no one here to do his job.
Duncan made two heroic efforts in his last hour: moving from his bed to the patio door, and then crossing patio to the grass. As a light rain began, we fetched his blanket to help carry him back inside; instead, we covered him and lay with him in the grass until he took his last breath. We carried him the rest of the way to his final place in the garden.
I did not have to write the eulogy for my father; I did I have to write the eulogy for my brother; nor did I have to write the eulogies for several others ~ those were done for us. Who else can speak for the dog, though, and what it is about him that we will miss about ourselves?
Some days are just like this.
Posted by Unknown at 2:56 AM