We lost Lucky this morning. He suffered from congestive heart failure. We were treating it, but his little heart finally gave out about 8:40 this morning. We were on the way to the vet, barely a mile away from home.
Lucky was the only surviving puppy from Rosie and Chico’s only litter. Rosie developed diabetes and Chico had the same CHF as Lucky. When Chico died unexpectedly we put two and two together and the vet was able to treat the CHF in Lucky.
We love our pets. I’ve had dogs and cats as long as I can remember. And I always begged for more. I remember Daddy telling me when we moved to this place in 1963 that, once settled, I could have a damn many animals as I wanted.
And so I’ve had rabbits and chickens and any number of cats and dogs. This land is a virtual pet cemetery. There’s Tiger and Sport. There’s Zippo, the cat that mourned Tiger to the point of not eating for 3 weeks. There’s Jinckey, the last one my Dad brought home to me. I was 15. She stayed with me through Daddy’s death. She even spent several years with me in college. She was around when my daughter was born.
There is BB, Big Baby, the lab my baby Zach used as a step stool when he wanted to climb onto the kitchen counter.
Bob’s cat, Baby, came from Canada with him and is buried here.
There’s Stumpy and Dixie, both rescued to live the remainder of their lives with us.
There’s Wily, the Jack Russell that was determined to run around the neighborhood picking fights. It took Bob weeks to devise a fence he couldn’t jump. We spent some bucks on fight recovery efforts.
And there are so many more.
They have all enriched our lives in one way or another. They were all loved, even the myriad number of barn cats that we kept trying to spay and neuter in order to get the population down.
They loved so much more in return.
Our pets can teach us so much about life and living. If only we listen to them.
Today we said goodbye to Lucky. He’s peaceful now, no more laboring to breathe. He’s right across the garden path from Chico.
They are all missed.