It is Done

This is my old Gus sleeping in the tomato plants. He looks so peaceful. I miss him so. 

3^rd January 2015

Dear Cassi,

Well, it happened, August the dogust, my old Gus, is no more. It had already been done when I got up and Pickle came and took me his collar so I could inform animal control that we no longer had a Doberman Pincher. Pony Girl came and took all the old dog food and dog medication. She got all the dog bowls and such and we were left with the feeling that we would never have another dog in this house.

Pickle cried, but I did my crying the night before, and so I poured the whisky. Forgiven by Wild Turkey was our drink of choice, and we had it with butter scotch cream soda. Pickle kept it going with every kind of alcohol we had in the house to numb the pain of putting the old dog down.

Me, I had a beer to chase the whisky, but spirits never did live in me. I have always gone to my grief alone and so doing so meant keeping my strength in company. I had dishes to do and food to cook with no time for my morning. I guess you know that feeling.

Stay strong, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

The Sick Old Dog

First of the New Year 2015

Dear Cassi,

 I came home to dog mess on my floor and woke up to a dog covered in his own bowel movements. Pickles, I think I’ll start calling him Pickle, was beside himself on handling this happening. Fellow has no idea what a mop looks like or how to mop up a mess. This meant that he waited for me to rouse to clean up a slick of dog fudge in front of the hall washroom.

In the last few days old Gus has on earth he shouldn’t spend them covered in his own excrement. Then, Pickle should be better at looking after his dog. What a way to start a year, hmm, mucking up dog’s mess and dealing with a child in a man’s body.

In any case, I mopped the brown off the floor and cleaned with ammonia to get the stink out then washed up my old Gus as best I could. He was so light I could stick him under one arm and move him and in so bad shape that he sat where I put him for the rest of the day.

I’m going to miss that old dog when he’s gone.

Love those you have, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Make the Best of Life

16^th September 2013

Dear Cassi,

       

I was roused today by Pickles calling me to tell me that Pork shop had injured his leg, but when I got out of bed the overweight Labrador was walking fine. I gave the old dog a pat on the head and went about my day as normal.

       

I took him for a short walk after walking the Doberman and Pork chop could hardly make it down the street. The Labrador could hardly walk when I found him wandering the streets and even now struggles with rising and sitting, so this gave me no cause to worry over the big blob of brown fur.

       

As the sun set I took it as a time to give the dog an evening walk, but as I stroked his coat to wake him I felt something like mud in his fur. On investigation I found what looked like an old puncture were the skin had died and left a bald spot that now looked inflamed. I probed this some and removed clods of blood stained fur until I could see the skin clearly.

       

The area was swollen and red looking something like a boil and I pressed it seen blood and infection make its way free until the wound was less bulging. Then on the dog’s leg I found a lump that burst in my hand. A hot pink sludge covered my fingers, but I could tell the wound was still harboring fester, and so I pressed with my poor dog giving out a small whimper.

       

The gore on my hands was unsettling and my old lab will have some hard days to come but the condition is not life threatening.  This dog has lived a hard life that left him with scars and places that will grow pus for years. Still, he is a happy old thing and that is all we can hope for.

Make the best of life, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Demonic Dog

Fuzzy Friday: Pink Blanket Dog