There comes a time in every family's life when they have to say goodbye to a loved one. The pain and mourning that goes along with these departures is generally unbearable and sometimes causes you to do some very strange things.
Gertrude's passing was one of those times. I mourned, Edward mourned, the kids cried, and even Eli the dog mourned, albeit for different reasons.
Early one morning I walked Edward to his car and waved as he drove out the driveway. Eli was barking so I decided he needed to be fed before he woke the children. I made my way to his dog house and stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted poor Gertrude laying just a few feet in front of me. I stifled a scream knowing that would cause the children to come running. Hers had not been a natural death, it was obvious to even my untrained eye. I knew I had to do something. There was no time to wait for the authorities. I scooped up poor Gertrude and ran behind the garage and dug as fast as I could. I wrapped her poor body in a trash bag and placed her lovingly into the shallow grave. Then I ran back to the dog house and raked up the billowing reminders of this once graceful lady and placed them in the trash bag.
I was just patting down the last shovel full of dirt when I heard the children beginning to stir. Wiping my eyes, I started for the house trying to decide what I would tell them. It would have to be a beautiful story about how Gertrude had loved them and enjoyed living with them - but that sometimes bad things happen, even when you are a beautiful goose and you wander too far from the pond and strut your stuff too close to the Labrador Retriever.
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