Old Dogs and Children~

We had a dog for sixteen years. She was so pitiful at the end of her life, it was painful to watch. One day recently she slipped into a nap on the back porch and woke up running after birds in Doggy Heaven (which I am sure exists, please do not tell me any different). My nineteen year old son was the one who called me to tell me she had passed. He was so mature. He did not let me hear his voice break but he said what he had to in short phrases.
"Lucy's gone... Do you want me to bury her"
I told him I would let his daddy know and to wait for him. We had been expecting it. She had not moved for hours and during the night both the boys spent time with her, just sitting, maybe talking but showing their gratitude for a life will spent.
We originally got Lucy to be a companion for the boys. They were three and one at the time. We had water on our property and I thought a dog would watch for snakes and perhaps keep the boys out of trouble. Little did I know our Brittney Spaniel mix loved water, feared snakes and was as clumsy and mischievous as any boy ever thought of being. She did prove to be adventuresome and lived to follow the boys everywhere, often on long hikes in the woods.
The second day we had her I let the oldest walk out in the yard with her. In a minute there was a knock on the front door, when I opened it there he stood holding a sopping wet puppy. Apparently, he had fished her out of the pond.
"The puppy fell in Mommy" was all he said. I was of course mortified I had turned my back for one minute and the delightful little fur ball led my baby TO the water instead of away from it.
The reality of her death hit when I got home, and I saw that same little boy digging a grave behind the play yard. He seemed grown up, so capable of doing the necessary hard stuff required of an adult. He had wrapped her in a blanket so I would not have to see her. Ah, the beauty of a sensitive man.
Shortly, his daddy and brother came home from school. I asked my sweet husband what he told them in the office. He replied, "Told em, just told em my dog died". I heard the same short phrased voice coming from his mouth as his older son.
The three of them finished the grave and gently laid our beloved pet to rest. A piece of slate was driven into the ground with "R. I. P. Lucy" tapped into it. I watched as my men dusted off their hands, father and sons, so much alike in appearance, in speech and in disposition.
Neither of my sons remember life without Lucy. She grew up with them. Her death was an event that will be written in the story of our family, so will the leaving of the next child for college or to find his place in this world. The passing of time is so often bittersweet. We want our children to stand on their own two feet but the joy they have brought us is hard to part with. I believe it was fitting for Lucy to pass before we had to let that first boy go.
She did her job, she helped us raise them, she was a companion, explorer and friend.