Calling the vet

In my mind the call to the vet’s office was going to go like this:

Yes, hello, Mary, and a happy Thanksgiving holiday as well. Say, Brent and I have decided that it is time to put Zoe to sleep. She is having a difficult time with the colder weather and we feel it would be more merciful to let her go . . . yes, thank you and have a pleasant day.

Here’s what really happened:

Mary . . . WHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Did Zoe pass away?
No, but it’s WHAAAAAAA time . . . WHAAAAA
Okay, let me know when you’re ready to bring her up.
WHAAAAAAA! (heave, snort) today.
Do you want to sit with her?
I don’t think I canWHAAAAAA!!
Okay. Do you want the body?
No. Yuck. Do people want the body?
Okay, we’ll cremate her. Do you want the ashes?
No. Yuck. What would I do with those?
Okay. We’ll expect her this morning.

So far, so good.


One thought on “Calling the vet

  1. I am so sorry that you have to go through this, Marylisa. I look at our 1 & 1/2 year-old Golden Retriever and I know that–one day–we will be facing this same sort of loss. It's heartbreaking to think of, and my heart goes out to you.PS. It is heartening to see your inimitable sense of humor surfacing in the post above, though. Humor and joy help to see us through.

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