This lovely June arrives with an eagerness for summer, blended with deep grief of losing a beloved and competent sheepherding dog, Betty. Thirteen years ago, she was the runt in our litter of five, but was the first to climb our stairs and jump up on the sofa.
A serious uterine problem was resolved two years ago. Returning home, Betty communicated with her glowing eyes her desire to stay longer with us on this planet, on our farm, with her two brothers and a lively adopted boy – border collies all.
Three weeks ago, Betty’s three companions all sprinted from their kennels for their morning run. Betty took some steps, but collapsed, her eyes darting back and forth. Vestibular Syndrome! An inner ear nerve problem, common for older dogs, but with no reversal treatment.
That day, we settled into a quiet, darkened room at the Animal Hospital with little Betty lying on a cushioned mat. Stroking and whispering our loving farewells, the Vet came and quietly injected the euthanasia cocktail.
Many tender responses from friends and family. A niece wrote that at the end of all the love and care for your dog, there is much grief, but think also about how you successfully took care of Betty the whole way to the finish line. You got there together.
A man in a little cartoon on our refrig says, “If dogs don’t go to heaven, I want to go where they go.”
I’m Connie Seraphine and that is my Perspective.
