Last Monday I came home from work and found Bailey curled up in the batting of my box spring mattress dead. An abrupt assessment? Well, it was an abrupt moment - just ask my poor mother who received a phone call that was completely incomprehensible due to my sobbing and sniffing and hysterics. I really don't think she understood anything I was attempting say for the first 15 - 20 seconds of the conversation. Then she had to walk me through the preparing of the body for refrigeration (I'll come back to that) and the opening of the first beer of many.I ended the phone call and her misery and then realized I would be incapable of concentrating on work the next day and so thinking I could hold it together, I called my boss to tell him I would not be in Tuesday. Well, needless to say, he also could not understand the first 15 - 20 seconds of our phone call but was very sweet. I then remembered that I had a dentist appointment on Tuesday and called their office and left a completely incoherent message on their machine. It was a trifecta of incomprehensible messages.
So the fridge. I wanted her cremated and so I had to keep her chilled until I could get her to the vet in the morning. So I wrapped her in a towel, put her in a garbage bag, and put her in the fridge. Morbid, yes. Effective, yes.
Tuesday morning I work my way step by step toward the vet. First getting the bag from the fridge to the door; door to car; car to vet; bag from car to front door; front door to front desk. And crying the whole time. I drop off Bailey with the very kind staff and cry my way back to the car. I am sitting in the car sobbing (no delicate, gentle tears here - snot and sobs only) and I notice this elderly man looking at me. I give him the "I acknowledge you as a fellow human only because my mother taught me that this is what I should do" smile and he mouths the words, "I'm sorry" and I mouth back, "Thank you." More sobbing until I realize that the man is back outside my window. Addled with grief, I crack the window and the man proceeds to tell me how he once a wonderful dog that he loved very much (it helps if your inner voice assumes a Scandinavian accent while reading his story). His dog was deaf and every time he got in his truck the dog would stand there and then move out of the way. Well, she was deaf. So one day, he started the truck and ran over the dog. Because the dog was deaf, it didn't move out of the and he ran over it. He loved that dog very much and he understands how I feel. End of the story. What do you say to that??? I said, "Thanks," started the car, and left.
How do these people find me? Am I cosmically listed? At least it made me laugh - so hard I had to pull over and blow my nose and wipe my eyes. Bailey would have enjoyed every moment of my misery but have been the first to let me rub my face in her fur while she purred in my ear. I miss her every morning when she's not demanding to be fed and at night when she's not beating up the other cats and the dog. She was mean, she peed on me in bed more than once, and I loved her so much. She cannot be replaced.
