“Some angels choose fur instead of wings." ~ Unknown
Kevin came into their lives thirteen
years ago. A human name for the mixed-breed
pup seemed fitting because for all practical purposes, he was treated like one
of the family. And in return, the dog adored
children (they had but one), travel (he lived for exploration), and his family.
One morning, Natalie (9), first noticed that he wasn’t quite
right. He’d slowed way down, wouldn’t
stop panting even in cool weather and had difficulty walking. Kevin was finding it hard to get comfortable
sleeping and would stare at her, intensely - never wanting to leave her
side.
After the Vet’s diagnosis, they all clung to the hope that
that he’d go peacefully in his sleep. But
Dad reasoned that dying ‘naturally’ wouldn’t necessarily mean Kevin’s death
would be peaceful, quick or calm. Potentially,
it could be terribly distressing.
The day of Kevin’s procedure, the whole family gathered to
spend the day with him. They watched
movies together, cuddled him, talked to him, sat in the sun with him, took
pictures, and of course made him a delicious steak. If you’ve ever had a dog, you know that table
food is all they think about.
On his final car ride together, they drove up the Coast with
his head out the window soaking up the sun and the smell of the sea, which
would be Kevin’s final resting place when they scattered his ashes.
Upon arrival at the Vet’s, Natalie picked Kevin up and
carried him inside. He placed his soft,
wet nose against her neck and looked up through beautiful brown eyes for the
last time. “I’m sorry,” she muttered softly
before kissing him lightly on the head.
“Thank you!”
Wrapped in his favorite blanket, Kevin looked up, trusting them
implicitly as he’d done all his life. He
looked exhausted. He knew.
Within a few minutes, he slipped away peacefully.
Dad and Mom took it the hardest. After all, they’d know Kevin from an
8-week-old pup. Mom sobbed openly; even
Dad wiped away a few tears blaming his allergies for the watering eyes.
“It’s an unfortunate truth,” Dad said, “that dogs are
relatively short-lived. Their deaths
always seem premature and unfair, even if they’ve lived to an advanced age.”
Natalie, however, seemed to accept Kevin’s transition
without remorse or confusion. “I know
why!” she piped in. What came out of her
mouth next stunned everyone.
“People are born,” she continued, “so that they can learn
how to love and be nice to each other.
Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as
long.”
I’ve never heard a more comforting explanation.
Faithful friend, loyal companion, we say goodbye
for now, until we meet again. You have
kept us warm at night, protected our home and offered us unconditional love. For this, Kevin, we thank you and will remember
you forever. Love, Natalie
