drama queen finis

Well. We put down Abby yesterday. And I cannot stop sorrowing. She was with me for nearly eleven years- my brother found her in a tree on the farm when the rest of us were off in Toronto. I was eighteen then and I'm twenty-eight now. She always chose to be around me, preferred my lap, my bedroom, Me. So when I married, of course she came along! And she was always my darling pet, very pretty, very floofy and quite funny. And now…she doesn't sit in my lap when I pull out my knitting. Nor will she watch from her perch on a kitchen chair when I'm cooking. Nor will she watch me write or try to lie on my paper while I write. She was constantly around me, she followed me through the house nearly all the time. She tended to be wherever I was and she picked up funny little habits and then dropped them every few months or so.

And she's gone! My brain is having a devil of a time parsing this. We chose to put her down partially for the expense and partially because of her terrible reaction to the vet's the first time a month ago. I mean…she stopped eating for awhile afterwards and I just wonder…well, anyway. It's over. Her suffering is over (because she was suffering. She was drinking constantly and had bad diarrhea) but…is it? What is on the other side of this life? I can only hope, so quietly, very quietly, that she doesn't disappear into nowhere and nothing. She doesn't become blackness, blankness, nothingness. That's she's off somewhere else without her ailing, dying body and that someday…I'll get to see her. Because we were friends. Excellent friends and connections like that just don't die. Not even with pets, I so quietly hope.

So here's to my tender little friend whom I loved and love so much. I wish you didn't have to go, Pud, and well…goodnight, sweet princess, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.