The following story is humorous but in a very dark way. If you at all feel upset about an animals' death - skip to another post. I just wanted to get this down because it kind of demonstrates the dark humor that surrounds my family.
RIP Tiny
Tiny is my sister's St Bernard. He ways a good 130-150 pounds. He is QUITE a character. Tiny loves to "go visiting"...... BUT - he will only go if he is accompanied by a cat AND he will only go if it is not too hot. I kid you not. The dog has been found a good 10 miles away and EVERY time he is picked up by my sister, my Dad, my sister's friends, he has a cat with him. If the cat is Miss Kitty she will let you pick he up and put her in your vehicle - where she will MEOW very loudly her displeasure of riding. If the cat is Ferocious you will not be able to get close to her and she will eventually find her way back to my sister's house.
Tiny was having seizures and not the mild shaking and then ok for a day or so - it was convulsions and they repeated even in the same afternoon. This was my sister's dilemma: 1. Getting him to the vet. 2. Money for the treatment - which we all know never really brings them to where they were before the seizures - and that was IF they could find a cure. 3. If she did get him to the vet and they couldn't do anything for him they would want to put him down and how do you get the body back to your house - because she didn't have money to cremate him. My sister LOVES her animals - probably more than she does her own kids. (if you know her kids - you'll understand that one) :-) I know she agonized over this decision. She finally called her son to come and shoot Tiny.
She made the call - it was a Saturday morning. She went out to dig the grave. Now, Tiny usually never wants to "hang" with people. I mean - he'll come over for a treat or to be petted but then he's usually content to lay in the garage. (cool concrete). Not that morning. He laid RIGHT by the hole as she dug. Her son came out to the farm and helped with the digging. Tiny then has a seizure. He falls INTO the grave! They have to wait to finish till he stops and then they have to help him OUT of the grave. (they want to bury him deep enough that other animals don't get to him) As they dig a little deeper they run into Harley (a German Shepard she had that had got run over). My sister lives on a 20 acre farm!!! What are the chances you would dig exactly in the same spot! They finally finish and she goes in the house while her son puts Tiny down. It was a very sad day and an agonizing decision - we've all been there - trying to decide what one should do. When an animal lives outside and is as big as that guy they have to be healthy. His life would have been very miserable. The story, though is priceless. My sister always jokes that she's the kind that will survive the airplane crash but get run over by the ambulance when it arrives at the crash. ;-)
Death is a big part of life on the farm. From cats dragging animals home as presents to the dogs bringing home GIANT bones from the cows next door to her. Not to mention the whole slaughter thing that we, as "country kids" were all too familiar with. We all knew that meat didn't come in those pretty pink saran wrapped packages. My mother was a great one to serve cow tongue that still looked like tongue. She didn't see the need to disguise it - it is what it is.
It's been my experience, growing up in a small community, that you have rather high odds of dying of old age. Things are changing as they always do - but for the most part death is still very referent. It is seen as a peaceful end to this very hard life. It is mostly seen as a blessing because for the most part the mind gives out before that body does or vice-versa. Seldom do they give out at the same time.
Maybe that's why I'm not that jubilant about Osama's death. I don't see it as justice. And I certainly don't get the shouts of joy over it. I feel very worried and a little nervous as to what will happen now or who will become the new target and the fact that now there is but another country where we will always have troops.
Well, unlike Bin Laden, Tiny will be missed. He always had that "duh, duh duh" air about him. And of course whenever you can put your arm out your drivers window and pet a dog - that makes a memory.
:-)
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