Christmas Day

The roast is in the oven and the house smells comforting. The boys are playing a game on the new PS-3. This afternoon, with stuffed bellies, we'll go to see Up in the Air .

During the night, Petie passed on. He was getting worse by late afternoon yesterday. I proposed that we consider taking him to the emergency animal clinic for euthanasia, since the regular vet's office was closed for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Not that I wanted to. But his decline was beginning to border on suffering and began to outweigh my hopes for a peaceful home death. Paul begged to keep him home and volunteered to stay with him all night so that I could sleep. I haven't had more than two consecutive hours sleep for a week, and I was exhausted. So I agreed, and Paul set up the doggie bed in the t.v. room and stayed with him. I vaguely remember being aroused from a deep sleep, with Paul at my bedside, telling me that Pete had died.

This morning, we buried him in the backyard next to Gus. I wanted to do it right away so that we could move on, not dwell on it, and enjoy each other's company on Christmas Day. I remind myself to put the event into perspective. The world is so full of unspeakable tragedies and losses, that the departure of a pet is miniscule. But he was part of our family history, part of our family, and the feeling of loss can't be ignored.

Since I haven't slept deeply for the past week, I've remembered a lot of dreams that would have slipped away in my usual deep slumber-states. One of them was a vivid story about a dog. I feel inspired to write it down, and I will.

Liberto wants to open presents now, so Happy Holidays to all!