a death

R.I.P.

Garri

2000-2007

I was afraid of this day. When Garri, one of our two Shih Tzu, died this afternoon for some reason I don't know, I knew Mum wouldn't take it so well. I feel more sorry for her than anything else. I'm glad I came home early when I did, or I can't imagine what would have transpired in my absence.

He would have turned seven this month. He was supposedly being unusual this morning and died before we could rush him to the vet, which is probably more convenient, since I would have hated to see things fall into place anyway, but only after we've already shelled out money on the doc. I should know, I've seen this before.

I'm afraid everyone in this house will be intolerably weird for the next few days. But yes, I've seen this before, and we'll all look back at this day in a month or two (or ten) and have a good laugh about it. Especially Dad, dear make-a-joke-about-anything Dad, who came home as soon as I phoned him, "the dog is dead," and almost broke his back ruining the landscape as he dug the hole upon which to bury the deposed animal.