How it Went

Everything yesterday went just right. I feel like I had plenty of time to spend at my parents’ house with the dog before my mom and I took her to the vet. When I got to the house, my mom hadn’t gotten home yet, so I had some time alone with the dog. I lay down on the kitchen floor next to her head, and she licked my ear, and I started to cry. When my mom got home, she got on the floor and wrapped her arms around her and she cried, too. The dog was shaking; she was probably wondering, why is everyone acting so strange around me? What’s going on?

Before we left the house, I lay down and lay my head on her stomach with my eyes closed and just listened to her breathing, in and out, in and out, letting her chest rise and fall beneath my head. I must have lain there for a full five minutes. It was what I needed to do.

Then I carried her outside and we let her walk around the front yard for a few minutes. When we were ready, I picked her up again, my mom got into the front seat of the car, and I got into the back seat and let the dog rest on my lap. I held her close to me during the fifteen-minute drive to the vet. After my mom pulled into the parking lot, I sat there with my eyes closed for another couple of minutes, just sat there, letting myself feel what it was like to have the dog in my lap, taking it all in, letting it all seep into me.

I’ll just say that the vet and his assistant were wonderful. We’d been using this vet forever, a middle-aged and reliable man, and when it was all over, he said to me and my mom, “Thank you for letting us care for your dog over the years.”

It had been a long afternoon of tears and pain. When we got home, my mom got out a blanket and a bottle of white wine, and we went into the backyard and lay down on the blanket on this pleasantly sunny May afternoon, looked up at the trees, and drank some wine. I felt better. I was glad it was over, and I felt happy that the dog was now at peace. When my dad came home, he joined us outside. Eventually, my brother came home as well, and the four of us went out to a diner and ate. We Jews always turn to food when we have to deal with death. It’s just comfortable that way.

Later on at night I came home and got into bed, but I started to cry, so I had to get back up. After a few minutes of sobbing, I went back into bed, and eventually, I fell asleep.