Saying Goodbye to a Beloved Pet
The crow alights on my balcony, perching on the railing, peering inside one window, then hopping around to another, before flying off only to return the next day and the next for a week. It is written that at death, crows are escorts of the spirit to the other side, and having done so, the crow will return to the loved ones to let them know the spiritual journey has been completed. This crow has come for you, but I am greedy for more time and I chase it off.
Three years ago, I was told that the mast cell tumor removed from your back was stage three. You would be dead in six months. “Not my dog,” I said.
It must have been your size, just five pounds, which made them underestimate you. Perhaps the financial commitment that made them underestimate me. They did not see that you were my heart and soul, and I yours, and as long as your life was one of happiness and quality we would raise armies against this disease trying to separate us.
But now the crow awaits, and though your will is still strong, your tiny body is exhausted from the battle. You try to rally, refusing to leave me even as I hold you in my arms and beg you to cross into that endless sleep. I know what I must do.
I lay you outside on a blanket under the gentle song of a large brass wind chime and, as the chemical that will silence that fierce little heart does its work, we say our good-byes. At the moment of your passing, the chime catches a breeze and boldly rings out, and then just as quickly it quiets again.
The crow returns to my balcony every day for the week following. I smile each time it appears. Clearly, you are as stubborn in spirit as you were in flesh. And then it, too, is gone.
#mastcelltumor #peteuthanasia #puttingyourdogdown #belovedpet
Tissue warning needs to be added. I so Love your way with words, and blessed that these little creatures brought you into my life
So very kind of you, Cheryl. Thank you.
Thank you for this lovely goodbye. I am
weeping.
You are so brave to share the ending to a remarkable tiny life. So beautiful, Jayne. I would expect nothing less from you. Sending love♥️
Thank you, Joan. It gave me great peace to do so.
Oh Jayne, this is so beautiful. I am so sorry for your loss, but what a wonderful life you were lucky enough to love. Hugs.
Thank you, Jen.
Jayne—so beautifully crafted to honor the special relationship you share (present tense). These folds of energy separating our bodies never separate our hearts.
Crows…they seem to know everything necessary in every moment; remarkable creatures. I’m glad, but not surprised, you received a visit.
Much love dear one.
Thank you, Britton. I still feel her around me and have no doubt that she had a strong paw in finding Ellie for me and Pickles.
Thinking of you Jayne. Such a heartbreak losing a little fur person.
Thank you, Laurie. We always know parting time is coming, but it’s still so difficult to be prepared for the hole it leaves in our hearts.
Beautifully written, as always. Those warm, little bodies that enter our hearts and our souls, never truly leave us. The crow knows…
This is so beautiful, Jayne. ❤️
A beautiful tribute to your wonderful fur-baby., Jayne. As dog owner’s we all know the heavy price that must be paid when accepting such amazing animals into our lives,. Still, the seemingly endless joy and comfort they provide make it seem like the greatest bargain imaginable. I was very touched by this as I just lost my beloved dog Ringo 6 weeks ago. For 13 years he lovingly rested at my side. I miss him a bunch. The other two dogs help me keep it together. Keep up the great work, kiddo! You’re an amazing writer!
Thank you so much, Tom. And I’m so sorry for your loss of Ringo. These furbabies are real heartbreakers, but so worth it.
Such a great piece Jayne I can totally relate as I lost my shepherd Domino In September 2019. She touched my heart so many ways, I know how you loved Dixie
So beautiful of course I’m crying, but I know we will all be together again one day soon,
And we know their suffering has stopped.