R.I.P Sir Duke, Part 1 – Goodbye

My husband slept with the dog last Thursday night. Not because he was in the doghouse. He wanted to be close to Duke on his last night. Old Duke has been suffering for some time now with laryngeal paralysis, terrible arthritis, and that loss of back leg function that labs get. He has cataracts and is mostly deaf, but his nose is keen and he looks like there is nothing wrong with him. Amazingly at 3 mos. shy of his 14th birthday he was still able to move under his own power, and only recently had problems getting to his feet because his back legs wouldn’t work.

Friday morning we prayed before we went downstairs to let Duke out front in the grass for one last roll. Paul lifted him into the back of the truck and we silently got into the cab. For once I wished our vet’s office was farther than 3 blocks away. Duke regally hobbled into the office on his own. Even if the reason for our visit hadn’t been on the schedule it would have been obvious from our tearstained faces. Zach smiled gently and waved us immediately into a room. He spread a towel on the floor for Duke and gave us a few minutes. Then he explained how it would work and asked whether we wanted the body or ashes. Without hesitation Paul told him we were taking him to the ranch. Zach thought it a fitting way to honor Duke’s spirit.

When the vet entered he was filled with compassion. He assured us Duke would feel no pain but warned us that sometimes dogs will gasp for breath on reflex even after the heart stops. Not our Duke. Noble and majestic to the last, when the needle went in he simply put his head down as Paul stroked it and quietly went to sleep. Finally, his pain was gone. No more labored breathing, no more falling on the steps. He was truly at rest. Zach helped us prepare Duke for transport and we wrapped him in his blanket from home. Then they lifted him on the gurney and carried him outside, reverently, gently placing him in the truck bed. We drove the same 3 blocks, same silence.

We had talked at length about what we would do when Duke was gone. His coffin, custom measured and expertly built by Rex, was waiting. We put it into the truck bed next to Duke then lifted him up and into the box. A perfect fit. Our burial spice was baking soda to help keep ranch varmints from sniffing out his burial place. While Paul got the caulk gun, screws and lid I arranged the blanket over Duke, folding it to form a pillow for his head. So much easier to type the words than to do the deed. Together we aligned the top and screwed it down top, making sure Rex’s scrawled “Sir Duke” was on top. Then we each grabbed a handle and positioned it in the truck bed. Nothing left to do now but drive to the Ranch.