I've always considered myself to be someone that dealt well with death. I started working in geriatrics as a 16 year old. I've held the hands of people I loved while they crossed the veil, comforted families...I've even spoken at funerals. However, none of those experiences prepared me for loosing Wickett. We found out at the end of June that Wickett's kidney's were shutting down. When you hear news like that about a person, you immediately think, "What can we do? What tests can we run? Spare no expense!" When you hear it about your puppy, you think the same things...but it's a DOG. There was nothing to be done. So, we waited as long as we could before accepting the inevitable action of putting Wickett to sleep. I was surprised at how quickly he went to "sleep"...pretty much as fast as the injection was given it took effect. Mom and I cried and cried. I held him the whole ride home. When we got there, I laid him on the floor so Wookie could se
e him. I don't think he understood it was Wickett. I wrapped him in his blanket with his paws hugging his baby. Mom and I had a little funeral in the back yard. We couldn't help but laugh as we talked while digging the hole in the dirt, wondering what we looked like--two grown women sobbing over a dog, we even made sure he was facing east...laughter through tears always has been my favorite emotion. It's true what they say: Dog truly is man's best friend. Wickett and Wookie listen without judging, interrupting or talking back. They're always happy to see you when you walk in the door. When I had my knee surgery they both never left me alone. My own little watch dogs. They're content to snuggle on the couch and watch a movie or take a Sunday nap. I've decided that the difficulty in Wickett's death was that it was in our hands. With people, they can tell you what they want, what they feel...if they're ready. When people die, I know they have a family waiting to welcome them home on the other side. Wickett just looked at us with his big brown eyes. I believe that we did the right thing. And, when all is said and done, I believe what they say....All Dogs Go To Heaven. I hope my Granddad gave him a treat when he got there.
