The greatest dog ever lived with my family for about three years. My three year old son named him Black Cloud - he was a black Lab. He was crazy smart and seemed to understand what you were asking of him right away. Tell him to sit and point- he would walk to that spot sit down and be there when you came back. If you tossed him a ball and it was lost in high grass he would look back for your arm signals to go for the ball and retrieve to you. If the baby started crying he would come tell you. People would say, Look at his eyes- it's like he understands every word and is processing everything we're saying.
One Saturday he got a cough. The intent was if it didn't get better by Monday take him to the vet. By Sunday morning though his belly was twice the normal size and he was miserable. The news from the emergency clinic vet was dreadful- heart worms, too advanced to treat- the treatment would literally kill him. I got the equipment to drain his abdomen myself so we could have a few more days with him if he didn't begin to suffer. The vet offered to put him down but, I declined. I knew I would have to do it when the time came. For now he was wagging his tail and appeared to feel very well- even the cough was gone.
It was only in the early afternoon though, of the same day before I had to drain his abdomen of the fluid that was killing him. We sat up that night watching old movies. I told him to get up on the couch to sit with me- normally a big no- no in our house and he knew it so was a little confused until I reassured him, then he couldn't climb up on his own and looked to me for help. After being assisted up he lay his head in my lap and sighed real big, then for grins sighed once more real big and stretched his legs out out, groaned and went to sleep in less than a minute his head still in my lap. I rubbed that silky soft, clean coat and rubbed behind his ears for hours and he would occasionally look up at me and grin then sigh real big and go back to sleep.
In the morning I awoke with my neck bent back over the couch with an instantly thunderous headache. Cloud woke up, groaned a little, stretched and went to the door to ask to go outside to relieve himself. After breakfast we left and went to our place in the country where he, my boy and I had tramped all over countless times up and down the creek and through every inch of the woods that must have held a thousand trees where owls and hawks roosted and and deer were waiting to be chased where we had lived- before we lost our minds and moved to town.
Under the stand of live oak trees I gave him a chocolate bar and as he looked way swallowing the last bite I killed him. There wasn't a sound for the longest time after the shot- like every animal and even the wind was at first trying to figure out what happened and then was too sad to say anything when they figured out the truth.
Finally, I heard a little bird flit around above me as I dug the grave into this part of the earth he had loved so much. It sat on a branch above my head and watched while craning it's head side to side looking at me and making me feel it was being more accusative than curious. Then the wind picked up and sent a chill down my sweaty back as I dug in the 100 degree heat, then the cicadas started singing again. Then finally I could hear the sound of the shovel as it dug in and I could smell that rich, dark earth of my land mixed with the metallic smell of Cloud's blood I had spilled.
I wrapped the body in a blanket, covered it with earth and then stacked rocks over the top and wondered while doing it when someone found it would they have any idea what a great dog lay there and how much I had loved him?
I haven't had another dog since.
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