Thoughts on Laundry Day

Today's been another monumental day, though it started out pretty ordinary.  Laundry, ho hum.   But I realized as I started loading the machine, I won't be doing so many white shirts any longer. Jim works from home where every day is Casual Friday.  I learned the hard way that I had to check his front pocket, but won't have to worry as often about that any longer. It's sort of an end of an era, at least here at the Reeder's.  Not quite a LAST like I wrote about previously, but feels similar.
        And truly, today as I was thinking this, I found that very thing as I loaded - he'd left a pen in his pocket once again.  (And I am always grateful when I find a pen in time, since I've had to deal with the mess when I have NOT found the pen until it was too late.)

But we did indeed have one more 'last' today.  Maggie's last day on the earth .  It was a sad decision to make, ending the life of a beloved family member.  But the whole family was behind it, everyone had seen her yesterday.  She was in pain and acting rather irrational at times.   She'd had one seizure we witnessed a month ago, and we suspect she'd had one or two more.

I'll post a little tribute to her next, I have a few great photos. Tonight we sit here a little weirded out that our Maggie won't be here with us any more.  She has 'crossed the Rainbow Bridge,'  as they say in the pet-loving world.  I would love to believe she's cavorting with other pooches on some grassy park.  It's been a while since she's felt much like playing, and she's been annoyed by children, too.  Last couple of weeks she's slept more, and often avoided any of us.  She missed when trying to jump up on the bed or chair several times the last few months. 

So Chelsea and I took her over to the vet and Dr Oliver help ease the process by giving her a sedative first.  We got to kiss and pet her while she fell asleep... and of course we cried.  Then we left. They were very sensitive to us (even the doc was teary-eyed.)  It was sad, but not drawn out.  I felt guilty, but I realized I was God for her in a sense.  I was allowed to decide when her life had run its course. She was 13.5 years old, and in a lot of pain.   Her quality of life had gone downhill big-time. 

People came to the door this afternoon and this evening, and both times I waited for the usual BARKING that always accompanied knocking and the doorbell (even when hearing a doorbell rung on TV, or when we accidentally bumped a wall- she'd go nuts.) 

I really never thought I'd miss that.... but I think I will for a while. 

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