Mar 13, 2011

Me, the bearer of bad news

Our dog is sick. For the sake of this post, I shall call him Dog.

Dog is old, and nearing the day when he goes to the big kennel in the sky. My big problem was how to tell Number One, who is attached to Dog. Anyway we are all down with the bug and I tell Number One that Dog was sick too, very sick. He just registered the information and said, "Oh." Hmm, this is going to be easier than I thought, I thought.

Tonight, when Number One said his prayers, he said, "Dear God, I pray all of us who are sick, including Dog, will get better."

Gulp. I was wrong when I thought he had drifted apart from Dog and that his "Oh" was a nonchalent one. It was an "Oh" wrapped in the innocence and ignorance of one to whom illness was always followed by recuperation.

In a sense, Dog is living his second life. When we made the move thousands of km away, we almost had to put Dog and its sibling down down. The kids asked us what would happen to the dogs, and we said we would 'send them to the vet'. Number One asked, "So the vet will take care of the Dogs?" Hubs and I looked at each other, and with a heavy heart void of the ignorance of bliss, said yes.

Dog is now living his second life with a Benefactor. But I guess you can only postpone the inevitable so long.

I told Number One that Dog would maybe not get better. Then I hugged him in silence, while he cried for his Dog.

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