Gently picking Precious up, I took her to Duke’s crate. Brit had brought over her blanket, which I assumed was washable, and put it in his kennel. D...ke had told me in puppy-speak that he would rather sleep next to my bed than sleep on her blanket.I set Precious down, and she waddled right into the crate, lay down, and began to pant. All signs indicated she was about to have them. I sent Brit a text to tell her that if she wanted to witness this, she’d better get over here. Duke and I wanted to. She was deaf and I, dumb. During funerals for parents and those of their era, my mind dwelt on their life summaries, what they did and didn't do. For those younger, it was their tragedy, of a life story cut short, their uncompleted actions. This funeral was of my generation, now beginning to be sporadically called to the other world, a pace that would accelerate. As the sterile, macabre platitudes of the secular service droned on, my mind wandered afar.Death, it’s final. Tomorrow the world goes. More

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