“Good night Sadie.”
That’s what Everett is saying at the window looking out to our backyard as he moves around the house, saying good night to everyone and everything.
Our dog Sadie is buried out there, in a spot soon to be marked by a new bee hive for Harrison.
We all worked on digging the grave just a couple of hours before, even Everett. Especially Everett. He’s a tenacious little bug when he has a mission.
As a family we talked to her, stroked her back and cried as she was given the final injection.
And now, as we float around the house—sad, relieved, and in shock—together as a family we say “Good night Sadie”.
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The loss of a beloved pet is a really tough thing to go through. At 45 I still remember when my dogs had to be put to sleep, when I was 10 or so. In those days the family wasn’t involved at all. It is a blessing that you are able to grieve as a family. In 2006 my beloved rotten little dog, aka. Maxwell, left us. It tore me apart, and still does. The reason why I bring him up is to tell you of my memorial to my Maxwell. I visited a local rock shop and bought a piece of soap-stone. It is easily carved so I could make a little marker for him, like your new bee hive, it actually helped me through a horrible time.