One Nation, Under God
It’s time to put Ace down.
In the morning I’ll call the vet and make an appointment.
I hoped he’d die in his sleep.
That would have been so much easier for both of us, especially me.
Instead, he was standing outside the bedroom door this morning waiting to be fed.
He still eats his kibble and follows me around the house and yard, but he’s unsteady on his feet. Twice in recent days he fell and couldn’t get up.
I heard his frantic cries and rescued him, lifting him back to his feet and holding him until he could regain his balance.
But it will only get worse. He’s old and there’s no cure for that.
I’ve had a lot of dogs and they all died. I thought having three or four at a time would make it easier when one of them passed, but it didn’t.
Ace is up next. I just have to make the call.
I’ll wrap him in one of my hunting shirts and bury him like I did the others, this time in the backyard at our cabin on Fort Peck.
Then I’ll be down to just Dot, and I haven’t had just one dog in longer than I can remember.
Barb and I considered getting another pup, however, that may not be a wise choice at our age. Watching Ace’s decline the last few years is a reminder of our own fate.
I doubt we’d survive a puppy.
Dot is only three and there’s a good chance we won’t outlive her.
I hear Ace's claws clicking on the hardwood floor and then there he is, standing in the doorway looking at me with those big, brown eyes while I write about his impending demise. Standing straight, ears perked, he’s waiting for me to do something. For more than 13 years that’s how we’ve rolled. It’s not going to change now.
I scratch him behind the ears and he moans in appreciation. Dot joins us as we head out the back door to see if anything is happening in the yard.
A pair of magpies in the apple tree are making a racket. Dot trots over to investigate, but Ace, who’s been deaf for years, pays them no mind.
He stands at my side waiting to see what I do next.
In the morning I’ll call the vet.
Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]
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