Tuesday, March 25, 2008


Hey boys and girls! Not much time to write lately - tis the time for spring cleaning and getting myself prepared for summer. Yes Baronness, I've nearly worked myself into a puddle of sweat! Alas, my house is clean and I'm on the right path ... I think.

Anyhow, I learned over the weekend that my friend Kate had to put her dear doggie, Digger, to sleep at the wayyy old age of 17 years. That' 119ish in people years! Can you imagine?? Anyway, Kate and her sister Maggie are dog lovers through and through, so I know Kate is heartbroken right now. I, personally, am not much of a dog person but grew up with dogs my whole life and know what it's like to lose a pet. Maggie and I were chatting yesterday via email, sharing dog stories.

In an attempt to be empathetic and interject a wee bit of humor (in my own bizarre way), I shared this story ....

I remember our second dog (a Scottish Terrier named Sam) and going with my parents when we had him put to sleep. I cried all day leading up to "the appointment" and through the whole thing, despite the fact that it was surprisingly peaceful. My parents wanted to bury Sam at our cabin in West Virginia, instead of just leaving him at the vet's office. So, after everything was donewe wrapped the dog up in a blanket, jumped in the car and drove home. Instead of putting him in the trunk (or the backseat with me .. .eww) my Mother cradled him in her arms in the front seat while my Dad drove and we all sobbed our way home.

Once we got home, I found out my Mother had prepared a special doggie coffin for him. It had all his favorite blankets and stuffed animals in it (plus she had given him a bath, sprayed him with cologne -yuck - and tied a bow around his neck ... like he was going to the prom or something!) Anyway, the doggie coffin was a cardboard file box and was in the trunk of their car. Just as we were all sobbing, standing around the trunk of the car watching my dad put the poor perfumed dead dog in the decorated cardboard box in the trunk of the car .... don't you know our neighbor rode up on her bike and shouted "hey, whatcha doing?" You should've seen the look of horror on this woman's face when she figured it out. She must've thought we were like the Addam's family of the neighborhood. Now we laugh about it ...... so typical of my bizarre family.

(P.S. - Am I odd for thinking that's humorous? Tell me some of your sick humor ... I know I'm not alone!)

(P.S.S. - I really did love that dog. He was our pet for 13 years and even starred in our high school production of "The Wiz." He was something of a hometown hero. I think the reason I'm not a dog person is because there'll never be another dog as great as Sam.)


Sandi said...

Years ago my in-laws had to put their dog down. While they were sitting in the Vet's office, crying, and the dog was being put down the phone rang. My father-in-law said, "It's the governor, calling with a reprieve." I thought that was hilarious.

wellreadhostess said...

I can't handle sad dog stories...But mostly I'm just thinking about how jealous I am that your house is clean. My house looks like Shock and Awe came to town.

Los said...

Geez - I don't think I have anything to compete with that. My parents got my little brother a dog for his birthday one year - they got him (Buck) from the SPCA - he was a big dog, and even though he was trained pretty well, he still got excitable, and one day when my mom was putting laundry on the clothes-line outside, Buck jumped on her ... Buck quickly found his way back to the SPCA.

Baroness von Bloggenschtern said...

What would have given me pause for thought is if I had run across the Peapod family at the viewing before the funeral.

Odd, maybe. Heartfelt and genuine - definitely! You's my kind of people,

Anonymous said...

Wow - Spring cleaning is done! Cannot believe Digger is gone - so sad - I kinda like that sweet grumpy yipper and know Kate is devastated. My 90 lbs. of joy is well and I cannot handle sad pet stories either. I still wonder what really happened to fluffy the rabbit while we were on vacation. I was 7. Slainte from Appalachia. kat

Cary said...

That's hilarious. Reminds me of that Flannery O'Connor story where the family drives around with dead Grandma in the back.