Bye Bye, Baby...

This past week, the hub and I were on vacation. We spent several days with his pseudo siblings (long, not very interesting story) in Las Vegas. We had a great time, floated in a beautiful pool, ate gourmet food, and generally had a really fun time. Of course, in our typical fashion, it couldn't be a vacation without something weird happening. We were in the Hofbrauhouse in Vegas (Which is an exact replica of the one in Munich) singing, dancing (the Chicken Dance - but it counts...)eating, drinking and generally kicking up our middle aged heels when the hub's phone rang.

He went out into the foyer to answer it and when he didn't come right back I knew something was up. I went to see what was going on and when I found him he looked up and mouthed the words "Lucy died." Then we went back to the party.

Lucy was our 15 year old Border Collie mix. When the kids were 10 and 12 I decided we needed a puppy. The hub and I searched and searched until finally we stumbled upon a baby Coon Hound which I fell in love with and named Lucy. Turns out the hub had some reservations vis a vis the really loud howl Coon Hounds issue instead of a bark.

So we went elsewhere and found a baby Border Collie mix which I fell in love with and named Lucy. This time it stuck. She was 10 weeks old, really cute and shy. The whole family loved her and she was the perfect dog. Lucy was so smart that she trained herself to sit, stay, heel and throw a ball. Heck, she probably would have cleaned the house and cooked dinner if she'd had thumbs.

We weren't sure of her birthday but we decided it was June 18 which coincided with my birthday. That made us Geminis so we understood each other. We had our bitch days and our other days we were warm and fuzzy. Of course on her bitch days, she had the excuse that she was actually a bitch. The other days, well, of course she was warm and fuzzy - she was a dog, for Pete's sake.

When we heard she'd died, we didn't want her to go to the vet where they'd just toss her in the trash and then send me the Rainbow Bridge poem. They sent it to me after Ernie died and I thought "Lame. Nice, but lame". Then I got to the part about him coming to meet me as I crossed the bridge and I dissolved into a blithering puddle of weeping jelly. I did not want to go there again.

My poor, brave sister was the one who found Lucy when she came to feed the pets while we were away. She called and the hub told her to double bag the body and leave her in the garage. We were banking on the weather being cool enough to keep her relatively fresh until we got home three days later.

We reasoned that Lucy had died apparently peacefully in her sleep. She had kindly waited until we were gone so we wouldn't be upset (Yeah, it seems a tad anthropomorphic, but you didn't know Lucy). She also left a whole bunch of little hairs around the house to remember her by. Plus, she was 105 in people years!

I was cool about her death until I got home. I miss her, but there's not the sense that she was too young to die. Still, her absence leaves a hole. And there's nobody to clean the dishes before they go in the dishwasher. Our small dog has taken to giving us the stink eye and peeing in the living room. I sense the possible need for a puppy shrink.

Everybody loved Lucy. I found myself consoling many of my neighbors. We had a wake at 5 Guys burgers. I had fries in Lucy's honor. Lucy would have wanted me to. In fact Lucy would have made them for me. If she'd had thumbs. Then she'd have licked the plate clean after I finished them. I miss Lucy...