Rescued Dogs | Short Time, Long Love
The only person I could think of was Todd, that his spirit had come by to tell Ann that it was time. It was time for Cheyenne.
We put Cheyenne down the next day at noon. Even Dr. Menard’s eyes were puffy, after all the years she’d known her.
I have nothing new to add to the death of a well-loved dog. If you’ve been through it, I don’t want to bring it back for you. If you haven’t, I can’t begin to help you understand. What it is, really, is putting an end to someone totally devoted to you, and who trusts you just as totally. You can only hope that you’re totally right. In Cheyenne’s case, I believed we were.
We have things we’ll try to do to take her place. There’s a monastery near here that’s famous for raising German shepherds. We’ll volunteer there, help with the puppies, and maybe one day take one home.
But there is such emptiness now. Even the cats don’t eat quite right. Even the birds on the feeders, beneath which Cheyenne used to sun herself, seem oddly silent. The house is quiet, the lake is quiet, the world is quiet.