I'm back in the States and yes, I plan to post tales from my travels. But today I feel the need to post a fond farewell to the Parks family's (or more accurately Jessie's) sweet golden Dazie.
I was teetering on the threshold of a Chicago nail salon on Christmas Eve when I got the call. A heads up from Dad. Dazie was sick. The kind of sick that earns family dogs a permanent trip to the farm. Mom and Dad hadn't told Jessie yet and, since I was flying in on Christmas day, they wanted to steel me for the impending tragedy. I'm sure the ladies at the salon appreciated my ashen face and occasional stifled sob on such a festive day. Oh well.
The scene that greeted me at the family home in Seattle was dire. Dazie panted with the effort of raising her head. Jessie lay wrapped up in her rainbow blankie, her body wracked with grief. We were all there. Mom, Dad, Connor, me, even the cat. We crouched round Jessie and Dazie and tried to support her through the ordeal of loosing her best friend.
Animal, our impossibly small cat, who used to toy with Dazie's feelings, cuddling her one minute and biting her the next, now hovered near Dazie and licked her face. It looked like a scene from a Hallmark special.
We never had to take Dazie on that last sad drive to the vet. She didn't have to close her eyes in unfamiliar surroundings. The day after Christmas, Dazie took one last breath and slipped away in Jessie's arms.
I'm not saying that the death of our family dog was a good thing. But Dazie pulled it off with spectacular timing and bravery and united our usually scattered family so that we could all be there to carry Jessie through her grief.
Good girl Dazie.