Commentary on our dog Vivian
Forgive me but I’m still in a state of agony. Our little dog Vivian was put to sleep yesterday at the vet’s office. She was 14 and past the point where she could breathe properly given the large growth on one of her lungs.
She was the oldest of our 5 small dogs. Kind beyond words, the only thing she would bark at was neighbors walking in the street by our house. Their reaction was to waive and smile.
She loved to have her ears and belly rubbed. I fed all of them in the morning and early evening, and Viv would always get the largest portion. Eating was one of her favorite pastimes.
We knew time was closing in, and Mo and I cried as we took her to the vet. Extraordinarily nice as always, Viv sat with us as we petted her and said our goodbyes.
When we were transferred to the final room, Viv laid quietly fighting for breath to the end. As we petted her as she received her injection, I could hear her saying, “Now come on, Pappy, don’t cry. Thanks to both of you for 14 wonderful years.”
As we walked to our car, Mo and I were able to smile as I reminded her of a movie where deceased dogs danced with others in dog heaven. We were hoping that somewhere she was frolicking with our late maltese spuds, Stella and Betty.
