Kasey the Dog

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Kasey died unexpectedly this week, on a terrible Tuesday. I was at work, 30 minutes away, and there was no way to get home fast enough to say goodbye; he was gone 10 minutes after letting out a pained yelping whimper. I rushed home anyway to be beside my husband who was coping with the sudden shock of losing a pet in the midst of the chaos of caring for a parent with dementia. Kasey was lying so still in the living room, at peace but clearly no longer present. I stroked his fur and massaged his paws and ears. We struggled through the indignity of hefting him, in a sheet, out to the car, laying him gently in the back of the SUV. I made my way to the vet clinic; it was a brutally hot day but before I signed the papers and set the efficient wheels in motion for cremation, I lingered at the back of the truck as long as I could, whispering my thanks and love to this very good boy who shared 12 wonderful years with us. As I stroked his ears and paws I could already feel the coolness of a body in death. I pulled myself away, signed some forms and watched the techs gently place him on a guerney and wheel him away. He was a very good boy, and he shall not be forgotten.