Grief wells up, with its diverse moods and thoughts. Among the memories brought up the day after Zoe died is the final scene of Shakespeare’s King Lear, which seems to me the most moving scene in English drama. King Lear walks onto the stage carrying the dead body of his beloved daughter, Cordelia, and cries out,
“Howl, howl, howl, howl O! you are men of stones:
Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so
That heavens vaults should crack. She’s gone for ever.
I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
She’s dead as earth….”
In the midst of feeling grief amidst flashes of memories running through my mind today, I called Bob Williams to see how he is doing. It was Bob who had driven Zoe, Moses, and me to several places yesterday on our last visits together. After I returned to the car when Zoe had died, at about 3 in the afternoon, I asked Bob how he was doing, and he mentioned that it was rough for him while Zoe and I were in the vet’s clinic for her last moments. Zoe and I had been in the clinic for about 20 minutes. I assumed that Bob’s rough time had been caused by the fact that his dear dog had been euthanized only six weeks ago. So I called Bob today to thank him for taking us on this painful last mission, and I asked how he was doing. I explicitly asked about the rough time he had had in the car, when Zoe was being “put to sleep.” Bob said that he would tell me later, but I implored him to tell me now. What he said surprised me. This is what happened:
After the vet injected a medicine to put Zoe to sleep (not to die), I stayed with her a while, speaking to her quietly, and then removed her red scarf and green collar. I petted her head, and told her that I would be right back. I took my jacket, the scarf, and collar to the car, where Bob and Moses were waiting, parked right in front of the clinic. I said that the vet had not injected Zoe with the fatal medicine yet, but would do so shortly. I returned to the clinic, and remained with Zoe; soon Dr. Micki entered, we talked briefly, and she administered the final drug. Within a few moments, Zoe died. I stayed for a couple of minutes as the vet finished her work and confirmed death.
Today Bob reluctantly told me what happened in my absence, as Zoe’s life was being ended. He said that Moses suddenly howled, and looked up at the window and front door of the vet clinic, next to where they were parked. Then he laid down.
Moses howled as Zoe was dying. He howled and looked towards her. This dog Moses, whom I have considered slow and rather imperceptive compared to Zoe,very rarely howls—in fact, only when I play some dissonant chords on a keyboard, and hurt his ears. For reasons unknown to us, Moses howled as Zoe died. He may well be more perceptive or intuitive than I have realized. He surely loved Zoe very deeply, having lived with her from the time he was eight weeks old. In effect, Zoe was his foster mother.
“Howl, howl, howl, howl O! you are men of stones:
Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so
That heavens vaults should crack. She’s gone for ever.
I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
She’s dead as earth….”
In the midst of feeling grief amidst flashes of memories running through my mind today, I called Bob Williams to see how he is doing. It was Bob who had driven Zoe, Moses, and me to several places yesterday on our last visits together. After I returned to the car when Zoe had died, at about 3 in the afternoon, I asked Bob how he was doing, and he mentioned that it was rough for him while Zoe and I were in the vet’s clinic for her last moments. Zoe and I had been in the clinic for about 20 minutes. I assumed that Bob’s rough time had been caused by the fact that his dear dog had been euthanized only six weeks ago. So I called Bob today to thank him for taking us on this painful last mission, and I asked how he was doing. I explicitly asked about the rough time he had had in the car, when Zoe was being “put to sleep.” Bob said that he would tell me later, but I implored him to tell me now. What he said surprised me. This is what happened:
After the vet injected a medicine to put Zoe to sleep (not to die), I stayed with her a while, speaking to her quietly, and then removed her red scarf and green collar. I petted her head, and told her that I would be right back. I took my jacket, the scarf, and collar to the car, where Bob and Moses were waiting, parked right in front of the clinic. I said that the vet had not injected Zoe with the fatal medicine yet, but would do so shortly. I returned to the clinic, and remained with Zoe; soon Dr. Micki entered, we talked briefly, and she administered the final drug. Within a few moments, Zoe died. I stayed for a couple of minutes as the vet finished her work and confirmed death.
Today Bob reluctantly told me what happened in my absence, as Zoe’s life was being ended. He said that Moses suddenly howled, and looked up at the window and front door of the vet clinic, next to where they were parked. Then he laid down.
Moses howled as Zoe was dying. He howled and looked towards her. This dog Moses, whom I have considered slow and rather imperceptive compared to Zoe,very rarely howls—in fact, only when I play some dissonant chords on a keyboard, and hurt his ears. For reasons unknown to us, Moses howled as Zoe died. He may well be more perceptive or intuitive than I have realized. He surely loved Zoe very deeply, having lived with her from the time he was eight weeks old. In effect, Zoe was his foster mother.
