September 27, 2004

What I Learned This Weekend

I re-discovered that any writing done while inebriated is not nearly as witty and funny when re-read sober. I was first taught this lesson in college, when I turned in an assignment for a creative writing class that I did at a bar. I wish I could remember the name of the place; it was right around the corner from my apartment on Commonwealth Avenue and inspired several works for this course. Anyway, my verses, which had the entire table rolling on the floor, failed to elicit a similar response from my professor.

So after reading Sunday's post, I'm having flashbacks to a musty old classroom in Gasson Hall.

The other lesson from the weekend: when your ailing dog refuses to eat her dog food, the situation is bad. When your ailing dog refuses to eat dog treats, the situation is worse. When your ailing dog refuses to eat cheese, hot dogs, tuna fish, or any other previously forbidden fruit...it's time to throw in the towel.

Old 3-legger's last visit to the vet is Wednesday morning. Her breathing is ragged and she's refused all offerings except for some sliced turkey early this morning. I wish she could talk. It's hard to convey to her she can have anything she wants on death row. For all I know, she might be craving pan-fried squirrel or something. And I'd cook it, too. That's how much I love this dog.

mygirl2.jpg

Good girl.

I'm going to miss you.

Posted by Cathy at September 27, 2004 01:36 PM
Comments

That breaks my heart. I hoped that Breezie would be with you for a long, long time.

Give her a hug for me.

Posted by: aelfheld at September 27, 2004 02:12 PM

Thanks, Aelfheld. I will.

Posted by: Cathy at September 27, 2004 03:59 PM

The beginning of this post I was almost on the floor laughing and then you end it with that?
I'm so sorry. Having to put down these furry guys is hard to do. Have you thought of having the vet come out to your house for euthanasia? Sometimes that is calming. Or you could get a sedative to give him before you head out to the vets office.
Again, I'm so sorry.

Posted by: Jo at September 27, 2004 10:23 PM

Hi Jo,

Thanks for the kind words. I did think about a home visit, but I didn't want to deal with any questions from the kids. I really love the vet clinic where we go, and they're so kind and caring...it almost feels like a second home sometimes. Wednesday I'm giving her all the remaining pain pills we've got left from her last visit. If I'm lucky, she'll already be sleeping when we get there.

Thanks again for the comment. The sympathy is comforting.

Posted by: Cathy at September 27, 2004 11:18 PM

That's so sad that her time is finally here. At least she won't be suffering anymore.

Posted by: yayaempress at September 28, 2004 08:12 AM

Cathy,
Our thoughts are with you today. You gave Breezy a great home. She will remember that from now on. She and BW have some catching up to do. Give Hoocher an extra treat from us! He needs support too.

Take care,
Casey

Posted by: casey at September 29, 2004 09:46 AM

EULOGY TO BREEZY

The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog.

A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and poverty, in health and sickness. She will sleep on the cold ground where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only she may be near her master's side.

She will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; she will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. She guards the sleep of her pauper master as if he were a prince.

When all other friends desert, she remains.

When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces she is as constant in her love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.

If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that she accompany him, to guard against danger, to fight against his enemies, and when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in it's embrace, and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between her paws, her eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death.

Senator George Graham Vest of Missouri

Posted by: VP at September 29, 2004 10:33 AM