Siren died last Sunday...the 28th of February. Which happens to have been the 7th anniversary of my dad's death. I don't know if this was a karmic "Ha ha fuck you," or if it was my dad's way of letting me know he'll take care of her for me. Regardless, she's gone and I miss her tremendously.
Not as tremendously as I'm missing my sister but huge sadness just the same.
G and I had gone to Kalispell and Libby to attend the funeral of my great aunt Ruth, my Granny B's older sister. She was just three months shy of celebrating her 100th birthday. She almost made it. I have always enjoyed her very much but just realized that I am like her in one very important way. Sarah and I were/are nine years apart in age. Ruth and my granny were ten years apart. And they were very close. And Sarah and I were very close. It's just another way I feel like I am alone, actually. Her funeral was awesome, about 30 members of her family (children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, brothers, etc.) got up and sang a song together. I got to see a lot of familiar faces and get lots of hugs.
We left and went to Libby to hang out at Granny B's old house, which is now my cousin's house. They have kids G's age so he loves getting to go there. Sunday morning E texted me to tell me that Siren had had a rough night and that she hadn't eaten or had any water since the day before. He said her breathing was labored and he had to go outside to get her and carry her in. I knew that meant things had certainly changed. I packed up the car and G and I left by 9 am to make the five-hour drive home. At about four hours we reached home (what can I say, it was a clear and sunny day and we only stopped for gas).
As soon as I walked in the door and was not greeted by a wiggling but Siren I knew something was wrong. Then I saw her face and my heart broke. She looked completely and utterly crestfallen. For a split second I could see joy and relief in her eyes at the sight of us but then her face was just sad. Very, very sad. I never left her side for the next few hours, just laying with her where she wanted to lay. E and I took her outside to potty but she couldn't stand up anymore and had no interest in it all. We carried her back inside. I just laid with her and talked to her about everyone she'd get to see when she got to Heaven. I talked to her about some of my favorite memories we shared. I talked to her about how our future would be and what she wouldn't be here to see.
G would lay with me and her and talk to me about death. I wanted to show him that it's not a scary thing, that we welcome it when someone we love is suffering. I wanted him to see that it could be sweet and loving and peaceful. That's what I wanted to give her. Calm, quiet, love.
She got up and moved off her dog bed to lay closer to E in the kitchen. When I tried to get her to move back to her bed I knew it was close to time. She could not get back up on her own and when I went to pick her up she peed. No problem, pee can be cleaned up. I laid her back on her bed and noticed her breathing had changed. I told E and G it was close to time for her to go. We all laid on her bed with her, kissing her and petting her and loving her. And she just stopped breathing.
We buried her in the back yard with Kevlar and Crash. It was everything I wanted for her end time. We will miss her and all her craziness. There was never a better dog than our Miss Siren Jean the Beauty Queen.
