Yesterday we said good-bye to Sadie Mae, our sweet black Cocker spaniel dog. She was the kindest animal I have ever known, faithfully calm and sweet with any age or amount of children. Never once did she dig in my garden, nor chase the cat, nor jump on anyone. She loved to eat anything and today when I dropped something on the floor I started to cry, realizing she was not there in her spot, continually under my feet as I cook and always happy for my clumsiness. She slept with Josiah for the last 2 years, once we had finally given up on her being an outside-only guard dog who would chase the deer out of the vegetables. Whichever room we went to, she followed and waited to see-"Are you staying in here? OK, me too" then she'd lay down, rest her curly black head on her paws and snooze lightly-hopping up at any sign we were moving, to faithfully follow...she just wanted to be near her people. After breakfast each morning she seemed to know what time it was and she'd stand at the kitchen door, waiting, until we headed out to the school room. There she crawled up into her bed, tucked in amongst the bookshelves, and snooze while we studied, lifting her head at times to listen in. She would only get on the furniture if you called her up to you, but then she would luxuriously sprawl across every one's laps and push her head against your hands until you got the hint, and rubbed behind her ears.
Sadie was old when we got her, so it was not a complete surprise when the vet listed all her health problems, the most serious being glaucoma (one eye suddenly blind, and the next sure to follow) but the decision to end her suffering was so difficult, so painful to all of us. John came home from work, bringing Sadie a big can of premium dog food. The boys chose a shady corner of the yard for her grave and that sweet dog followed us out to it, and laid her head down on the cool dirt John dug up, watching. It was almost morbid, the way she watched us prepare the site, how she seemed almost to understand. We pet her and talked to her, and thanked God for blessing us with such a perfect dog, and stayed with her as she took her last breaths. When we got home, Josiah made her this cross with the wood burning pen, and hung her collar on it.
The boys (and their parents also) are learning how to handle grief, and death, and pain. And God, as always, is faithful to lead us gently.
We loved you Sadie Mae. Rest in peace.