My dog, Buster, died this afternoon, while I was away at a local trade show.
Every night for the past several months, when I got up to go to bed at 1AM, I would go over to where he lay on the couch and would give his head a rub, just in case he wouldn't be alive in the morning.
But, every morning, he kept getting up and acting like the good dog that he is - often like an old dog, but not like one who was going to die that day.
I kind of always expected he would go quietly in his sleep.
But no...
It wasn't such a bad thing... this afternoon after my wife frantically tried to get a hold of me at the convention because she needed the kiddie car seat to take our son to a dentist appointment later, she got ready to leave the house... saw Buster wagging his tail at the front door and said, 'Okay, come on - let's go see Andrew."
And they did. I met them outside the convention center, they drove me to my car, I gave them the car seat, they drove me back to the front of the center (it was all about a kilometer away!), I said good-bye to my wife and then gave Buster a good head rub and a cheek scratch - and he drooled on my shirt as he rubbed his head on my sleeve.
Colette said something, I leaned in to answer - something about bringing Buster into the convention hall with me, and me answering that it might be fun to watch him run amok inside. I stood up, gave him another good head rub and neck scratch, said 'See-ya, Buster' and turned and went back to work.
On the way home he barfed and voided his bowels all over the back of the car. Colette put him in the backyard while she cleaned the car... and then walked over to the school to pick up our son... when she arrived back...Buster was dead in the tall grass in the backyard, under, appropriately enough, a dogwood tree.
My son has no concept of death and wasn't shook up about Buster's passing, and my wife is self-admittedly too clinical for emotion... me... I'm emotional. I ooze emotion and sometimes it seeps from my eyes.
By the time I got home, my wife had called a veterinary clinic -and all told it would have been close to $500 to dispose of Buster's body. The cost would have been the final indignity to me... he only cost $800 when I got him as a puppy! And, it would have broken the bank.
But... here in Toronto, if you bring in the body of your pet or wild critter to the city's Animal Services, they will dispose of the body for you for $39.55. That includes tax.
We put Buster in a tarp, lifted him up onto a kid's wagon and moved him to the back of the just cleaned car and then drove Buster to the back of Animal Services where a City worker and I lifted him up onto a gurney, and we walked away.
I'm pretty sure I was stunned. I was stunned by how simple, efficient and cost-conscious the City was in helping us with Buster. We don't need his ashes. I don't need him stuffed. I don't want a gravestone. I was so bloody impressed with this City department that I forgot to say something to Buster... which made me shed a tear or two behind the sunglasses I wear.
But... at least he and I shared a goodbye earlier today. I told you he was a good dog. It was like he knew, and he wanted one more car ride to see me one last time.
Sorta cheers,
Andrew Joseph
0 comments:
Post a Comment