Putting down my dog: The late great Little-Dog [View all]

[cali]

That was her name- Little-Dog. She wasn't really little. she was a medium sized mutt with a basset/retriever looking oversized head. She was 19 years old. My son was 8 when he got her.

She was a character. Really smart and the most manipulative, sly critter I've ever met. When you were mad at her or if she was jealous, she'd fake a limp. It took us a while to figure out that she was faking, but she'd forget which leg she was "favoring".

Little-Dog liked to lie in the middle of the road. It drove people in town nuts but it also amused the hell out of people. With a habit like that, it's amazing she made it to 2 let alone to 19.

I wanted her to have one last summer. She was deaf and blind, but she still enjoyed wandering down the road to visit here and there- and get treats from the suckers. And then, swiftly, things got bad for her.

The last 3 days were awful. My son was away and I wanted to wait until he was back. She was such a big part of his childhood. I set up with her nights- which were particularly bad and I gave her my pain killers to keep her comfortable. She lost the use of her hind legs on Thursday night. I roasted her a whole chicken on Wednesday with stuffing, which she had a particular affinity for. I fed her the last bits on Friday Afternoon, just before my son arrived to take us to the vet's.

She cried the entire drive. I just held her and sang her a song about how great she was. She fell asleep and died peacefully in my son's arms.

It was a beautiful late afternoon. We buried her on a slight rise at the edge of a field behind my son's girlfriend's house. They dug this perfectly rectangular deep grave and we buried her. I said a Dylan Thomas poem for her. We planted a lovely little apple tree in the grave, sat a few minutes remembering some of her more outrageous antics, went inside and toasted her with hard cider.

She had a great life and a peaceful death. I'll miss her dreadfully.