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

A Sad Moment

Anyone who has been reading this blog for any length of time knows that I have had a good amount of crappie moments in my life.

Well…haven’t we all?

20^th November 2011

Dear Cassi,

   

In my last letter I told you about the day my mother died in spirit. Now it would be only write to tell you of the day she died in body.

   

I recall that day rather well. I was coming home from school with a cross word puzzle as home work and dreading it but looking forward to an in class film on Friday. I arrive home before the other children and found my father sitting on the couch and told him that I needed to bring something in do drink during the film.

   

He looked at me and said “you’re not going to school Friday.”

   

I asked why, and he told me “because that’s the day of your mother’s funeral.” Little did he know that I had come to terms with this inevitable event. In truth, I would not have wished my mother even one more second of the suffering she had felt waiting to die in that room.

   

I recall before the funeral the old man saying “I keep expecting someone to call and tell me this is all just a big mistake.” I couldn’t understand why he would say that given current events, but now I think he was just being selfish. He didn’t want the burden of looking after his children.

   

I remember that we went back to my grade school to tell them what had happen so they would know why I was absent. The school knew well my mother’s condition, and my absence would have made them worry. One of the things I knew even then was that even the horrible truth is better than not knowing.

   

I didn’t cry that day, because I felt there was no reason. If I knew what lie ahead of me that day I would have, I would have broken down and asked to be buried with my mother. Still, at least I know that one day there will be peace ahead of me.

Stay safe, Cassi,

Richard Leland Neal