LOTM;

Being attached to an ailing pet does us good in some strange way I think, even though it is painful for us. Mine was not much past a pup, though a huge Great Dane. He adopted me before I adopted him. He used to run out to jog with me, wagging his tail so hard that it would break my stride when it hit me (I was a smaller woman then.) But his owner across the street beat him. So I got her to give him to me.

Took him right in for his shots, and the vet told me he was in the last stages of distemper and would die in weeks, though he seemed healthy. Nothing could be done.

The last day, 6 weeks later, when he could no longer get up, I sat on the floor with his head in my lap while the vet put the needle in his leg, and he was looking up, glad to see me. He went happy and instantly, no pain.

Afterward I surprised myself by crying – well, bawling – so hard that I used up an entire box of kleenex. I hadn’t known I was that attached to him. In fact, for about 6 months I would tear up when I heard a song that reminded me of him. I mean, he was just a big, clumsy, dumb, affectionate dog that I only had 6 weeks. He even looked dumb, with his head coming to a little point on top. How come I got that attached to him? I don’t know. Maybe being with them in their illness makes us closer somehow.

And I do expect to see him again, along with my other pets. As the Bible says, “And the lion shall lie down with the lamb.” There will definitely be animals there. You will be in my prayers.