Most mornings, I get up early. I often visit the dog friends, Elvis and Zoey. They live across the fence.
We don’t have a dog, although we did once. More on that in a moment. My wife has a full pantry of dog treats for Elvis and Zoey. So, most mornings, the dog friends can be found looking through the fence and into our kitchen window waiting for someone to come out and give them their breakfast bones.
We probably should get a dog. We had one for a very long time. Our dog lived for something like 19 years–incredible. Near the end, my wife took to feeding the poor thing with a syringe of water and baby food spread on bread.
When it came time to “put her down” (how I detest that phrase), I took off work and my wife and I carried her to the vet. She slipped away in our arms. I cried for the first time in a very long time.
We couldn’t bear the thought of sticking her in the ground. So, after she was cremated, we put her remains in a box. The box sits in our study next to the little pinewood derby car our son made in Cub Scouts.
Some things are more important than others.