Woke up this morning, ...
Funny thing about that – we had many dogs when I was growing up, and not one of them died while in our possession. Still, I think I know what it must feel like waking up in the morning and stumbling over your companion. I was never forewarned that the mutt would be taking his final ride to the SPCA. Nope. Always came as a shock. Had to ride the rollercoaster of the overwhelming and shocking sense of a sudden and terminal loss all by myself. Got angry, and then deeply sad. Sleep just happened after a while. Woke up, and well… stumbled over the carcass of my loyal companion, because he was probably already dead for sure. I’d dreamed it! Chico! Ringo! Mick! And some others I can’t remember their names right this minute.
Anyway, today felt like one of those end of my dog days. Sorry. Sorry for the late post.
Anyway, today felt like one of those end of my dog days. Sorry. Sorry for the late post.
2 Comments:
The deaths of my own and my children's pets are probably some of the most vivid memories I have.
The only pet I lost while in my possession was Trixie, our 15 year old cat that fell dead in our front yard in the wee hours of the morning.
The others passed away after they'd been given away to friends, or when I was no longer living at home.
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