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I thought today was going to be a good one. When I came into the sunroom, I saw Maggie, the dowager beagle, sitting in the sun just beyond my neighbor's toolshed. Oh, good, I thought, she's enjoying herself.
A few hours later, I looked out again. She hadn't moved. I thought it odd, but then again, she is a lazy girl. Soon after, Roomie decided to say hello and give her scritches. When he got there, she did not respond to his greeting. Her mouth was open, but her eyes were closed, and when he prodded her, she was stiff and cold. Maggie the dowager beagle was dead. She died sometime this morning. It seems she died in her sleep of old age. As I write this, she is still lying in the sun. The neighbors are deciding how to tell her owner, a Vietnam vet riddled with cancer from the effects of Agent Orange, that his companion of seventeen years is dead in the neighbor's grass.
Can I pretend this day never happened?
A few hours later, I looked out again. She hadn't moved. I thought it odd, but then again, she is a lazy girl. Soon after, Roomie decided to say hello and give her scritches. When he got there, she did not respond to his greeting. Her mouth was open, but her eyes were closed, and when he prodded her, she was stiff and cold. Maggie the dowager beagle was dead. She died sometime this morning. It seems she died in her sleep of old age. As I write this, she is still lying in the sun. The neighbors are deciding how to tell her owner, a Vietnam vet riddled with cancer from the effects of Agent Orange, that his companion of seventeen years is dead in the neighbor's grass.
Can I pretend this day never happened?
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