Yesterday I almost lost my friend.
Not “lost” as in I couldn’t find him; “lost” as in died.
The whole situation leading to the events is tedious and a little irrelevant, so I will spare you that.
Yesterday morning though found me sitting on my porch swing, bawling my eyes out and feeling totally lost without control.
You see, I am a dog person. We are a special breed of people. We aren’t the ones who stick froo-froo pansy dogs in a purse for an accessory to match our new earrings. We are the ones that understand that we are the most important thing in our dog’s life and hold that in total respect.
I’m also a stay-at-home-mom. Dogs are a mom’s best friend. He was always two steps behind me, a shadow. Playing with the kids when I had to clean, warming my feet when I got to sit down, helping keep the floor clean, guarding the house against any intruder (mostly crickets, but that’s not the point) and being there when I was exhausted.
Back to the porch swing…
I have two best friends. One is calm and tells you “all works out to the glory of God.” The other one, hell on wheels.
I called the calm one and told her he was going to put to sleep because of allegations. She told me to call the other. I couldn’t do it.
“Hell on wheels” called my phone a few times and then I received a text.
“I’m on my way. We are getting your dog.”
30 minutes later she was in my driveway. I can’t tell you what she was wearing, not because of my grief, but because it was abomination of fashion. It was the outfit that one throws on in an emergency.
On the way to my house she called the Dog Police and arranged “The Great Breakout of 2012.” I personally think she probably threatened them, but I hold no responsibility of harm mentioned. When they mentioned bail money, I blinked at them. She pulled out her checkbook and said “how much?”
An hour later, my sweet boy was going home with us. A mere hour from the shot that would have ended my fur-face’s life. Many apologies by the keepers of the jail, excuses of being over capacity and just can’t keep him and lots of “good boy(s)”
The prodigal fuzzy butt is home. We pulled out the fattened pig (wet Pedigree food that looks like beef stew and smells suspiciously the same) and he got to sleep in our bed.
Have I mentioned that he is 100lbs?
Have I mentioned that he takes up the whole bed?
I woke up many times, hovering on the edge of the strained to capacity bed and stroked those floppy ears. Reminded that we all need friends that know what is important to you, I would try to shift to my 6 inches of dog free space and go back to sleep.
Yes, I would have been heartbroken about Deogi’s death, but it was also just the sheer loss. We’ve had so much we have lost in the past year, I couldn’t bear anything else. I couldn’t lose one more thing.
We need people in our lives that believe that “all works to the Glory of God.”
…and frankly….we need the “hell on wheels” too.
Categories: diary entry July