FOR WHOM THAT BELL TOLLS?

The trip to the vet was tense. TLW (The Little Woman) was holding Happy as I drove. Entering the animal hospital, it all came back to me, the visits, controlling her, her shaking whenever we came. Happy took her time as we headed toward the door, and left a little deposit, and I applauded her, thinking if I went to this, I’d want to voice my opinion too! Upon entering, she was very quiet, hiding her head like an ostrich, as we waited.

There were other people in the waiting room, all laughing, and chatting, and I wondered how they could do that on such a horrific occasion?

Finally the time came, the aide came out and asked us questions, hard ones, that needed an answer, and all that could come out was the shell of a word, a breath, a whisper. The doctor was a young man, very reassuring, and very calm. He seemed to understand what I needed, what TLW needed, what we needed.

I lifted Happy onto the table for a process that would take 30 seconds. 30 seconds would separate us forever, I would lose a little love in my life, something that is hard to find, forever. Happy watched the doctor as he shaved her front leg, clearing the skin for the needle that would put her out of her misery, but start mine again, once more. I could not help but remember that trip home, the first time we met her, they put her in a red and white striped box, TLW holding the box in the front seat, as she playfully popped out of the cover, jumping around, and here I was, doing this.

She searched the doctor’s face, as he finally applied the fluid, her eyes just staring at the doctor, not knowing what was happening, not resisting, not knowing. Suddenly she was on her side, falling off to a sleep that would carry her away from us forever.

If you come to my home, and see a bell hanging near the door to the yard, it tolls for Happy.