Rio died yesterday. Unexpectedly. No warning.
Our little perpetual motion ChiWeenie had settled into a favorite nap spot while we all enjoyed a quiet evening. When it was time to go to bed, he didn’t come when called and I found his tiny body already cold. It appears that our little ray of sunshine died in his sleep.
With livestock, death tends to be a regular fact of life, especially if one raises animals for meat. We have dispatched animals both for food and as a humane end of suffering. I’ve cared for many elderly dogs and cats through failing health and have made that difficult final decision. So, you would think that the death of a dog wouldn’t be so wrenching.
But Rio was different. He was a young 8 or 9 years old and showed absolutely NO sign of ill health. He had helped unload a bale of hay earlier in the day (well, more like supervised), had a play session with his Chihuahua “sister”, Olive, and happily hopped up to the back of the chair after dinner. for a snooze. And that’s where he died.
It was sudden. It wasn’t foreseen. Not in a million years would I have thought yesterday was our last day with him.
There was no time to emotionally prepare, no time to get accustomed to the idea that Rio won’t be here anymore. It happened, to our complete shock. He is the youngest dog we’ve ever lost. The only comfort we take is that his passing seems to have happened quickly and quietly, as we had no idea he had slipped away right in our presence.
Our past experience with the loss of beloved pets will help us cope with this unusual loss. We still have our elder pups Olive and Lena, who need our emotional stability, and house cats that are nervous because of our shift in mood. The fact that farm life doesn’t pause for anyone is actually a blessing. We still have to feed and water livestock, collect eggs and get things ready for possible stormy weather. Life goes on; it MUST go on for the sake of all the other animals that are depending on us. But when the chores are done and I can sit down, and my little guy isn’t jumping onto my lap, I cry.
