She was already in the hospital as she had become dehydrated fighting that nasty cancer. She needed fluids to be strong enough for her surgery the next day. I knew she was in good hands so we went about our day with our Easter celebrations. Family. Brunch. Mass.
Chris was insistent that we made the hour drive on Easter night to visit her at the hospital. As I look back on it, I think that I was truly existing on that beautiful island of “denial.” I didn´t see the sense of urgency like he did – as I knew that tomorrow was surgery, and she was going to be back to her old self. Our normal life would return.
So we went to see her. Where everyone else saw a very, very sick little old dog, I saw my precious little puppy who had never aged in my eyes and who was as beautiful as any other day. Yes, her hair had become matted from the sickness and bed rest, her eyes were glassy, and her mouth smelled of the sickness that she was battling, but I still saw my beautiful little baby.
I held her little body, alive, for the very last time. For the next day, she went into surgery to deal with the lung cancer that ravaged her little body and would die on the surgery table.
So, today, the day after Easter. The smells of spring still remind me of those feelings that day. The first warm airs of spring remind me of walking out of the vet clinic with her little body in my arms as we took her home for our version of a wake. The sunshine as we drove her home and I made a variety of calls to those that loved her to let them know that she was gone. The Easter decorations that were still up when we got home,… the baskets, the eggs, the candy.
And, the Easter lily. Sitting on the bar. Beautiful just like her and representative of the life and death of the Easter season.
It will forever be her flower.
I remember it all like it was yesterday.