burying a dog

My daughter called last not to tell me that the family's beloved dog had died. Louie was a big jolly old boxer. He was a very congenial old gentleman. I remembered what it is like to lose a dog. Dogs in our family are more than just pets. They are family members. I wrote the following piece several years ago after my dog and faithful companion had to be put down.

Burying a dog

I stood inside the garden shed holding the blanket wrapped lifeless form that had been my faithful dog.
His body was still limp from the recent injection
that stilled it.
I wanted no one to share my grief.
I sobbed as I held him to me ,
not wanting to do what had to be done.
Eventually; Gaining some emotional control,
I laid the blanket on the floor,
and searched for the shovel that was hung
with the other tools on the wall of the shed,
but could not distinguish it through my tears.
I wiped my eyes once again on my shirt sleeves
but that hardly slowed the flow. .
I selected the shovel from the assortment of tools
and took a deep breath praying that I could complete this final act that would end our physical relationship forever.
I left the shed; walked a very few steps,
and put the shovel to the earth. I worked with a fever until the hole was deep and wide enough to contain him.
Returning to the shed I picked up the bundle that had been my
loving companion and started out the door
only to return, sobbing once more , to the privacy of the shed.
Again I sought control ,and when gathered ,left the shed and
placed the bundle in the hole.
I retrieved his beloved tennis ball from the shed floor
and gently placed it with him.
Breathing deeply I shoveled the dirt in the hole
and padded it down gently.
Returning to the shed I replaced the shovel
and went up the path hoping that I could
retain emotional control until the sanctuary,
of the house, had been gained.

Tom Neiger
2005 copyright