Old Girl- A Tribute
My dog was that wonderful connection to my childhood that hadn't been lost to time. She stood for days gone by and more mischievous moments in the past. Abby loved nothing more than stealing the freshly baked bread, or the hamburger on the table. At the time these actions were a little annoying (if I was hungry) - however, now they always bring a smile to my face.
When she lay dying and I finally knew that it was all over, I cowardly wanted to run from the room. I wanted to lock myself away and pretend it wasn't happening. Abby had lived to be eighteen years old for Christ's sake, what was wrong with continuing believing that she was never going to check out of this big hotel we call life?
My parents were out of town when she died - so it fell to me to make the preparations. I couldn't stop crying. My first brush with death and it was one of my best friends. I understand now, how those who are constantly face to face with death become passive to it. I shut down, and merely functioned because I had to as I prepared the body. Death isn't pretty and I hated every moment of it. But I respected and loved Abby enough while she was alive to give her one last hurrah. I couldn't let her cremators see her in that state. Not unless they would give her the same courtesy and gentleness that I did - rather than seeing her as some pathetic dead thing, filthy and limp.
I did a lot of growing up that day. My mom gently mocked my tears in the following days - wondering what I would do when my dad dies. To tell you the truth, I don't know what I'll do. But hopefully, I won't have to be his mortician. Death caught me by surprise when Abby died. Everyday I hoped for a miracle and received one as she lived through that day. But miracles are fleeting and life is built upon change. Abby lived a good, long life- filled with stolen lasagnas and pretzel snacks. She made my life better for my entire childhood, illustrating how one being can always continue giving even if she's been slighted by the girl who chose her friends over taking the dog for a walk.
Here's to you, pooch. The memory of you will always be with me. You filled my childhood with adventures and never turned down a long walk to the library (especially when I was afraid of the dark). I'll always love you best - have fun in doggie heaven.