Death of an animal.

            When I was growing up we always had animals.  We live in Arkansas so a majority of people live in rural type settings or at least live in small towns.  We raised chickens every since I could remember.  We had geese for years.  One goose actually thought she was pretty close to being human and would wait outside the sliding glass door for someone to come out to get her.  Geese require hosing off the porch about every 20 minutes (which is not fun, or else you will be stepping in droppings, they are very messy).

At some point we had four peacocks for a while.  They were beautiful, one male and three females.  I was about eight or so when we had them.  My nephew who is 11 months older than me was outside playing one day and I went outside, he got this brilliant idea to throw rocks at the peacocks, and one attacked me.  I didn’t even realize I was bleeding until my brother who was about 14 at the time and supposed to be watching us ran outside and saw blood dripping down my face.  It was just a minor cut, no stitches needed but, I learned my lesson to no throw rocks at exotic animals (or any animals for that matter).  Later on we had a pot belly big named Daisy (No we didn’t eat her, we never ate any of our animals not even the chickens), we raised rabbits for a long time, and my dad raised pit bulls when I was younger.  We had three goats but, they would get out of the fence and get on the cars and eat them (they like to find glue pretty much anywhere it would be) when we were gone, so we sold them.  We had birds at one time, and of course cats and dogs here and there. This was all throughout my childhood.  Usually we would only have chickens, dogs and cats and then occasionally we would get some other animal for a while.

When you are raised around different animals you learn to have a respect for them, they all have different behavior patterns, completely different wants and needs, and different forms of affection that they show.

About five years ago as I was nearing the end of a pretty awful relationship, my ex wanted to get a Yorkie dog.  We found one that a family was giving away, papers and everything, for free.  He was about ten years old at the time, so we weren’t sure how long he would live but, we took him in anyway.  When we broke up of course I got the dog, Bentley, because the Ex was completely incapable of taking care of himself, and could never care for an animal properly.

Bentley has always been a great dog.  When I got my apartment when I was pregnant; it was just me and Bentley. Bentley would lay with me when I was so swollen I could barely move at the end of my pregnancy, and wouldn’t leave my side.  The last check up I had the same week that I was due, my best friend Katie (I wrote about her in a previous blog) came over to go to my last check up with me and to go do some shopping for the baby.  Bentley would not leave me, he wouldn’t even let me go to the appointment, and he was acting very bizarre and strange.  It was the beginning of March, so it was still a little cold outside, and I didn’t really want him to sit in the car while we were at my appointment but, he wouldn’t stay in my apartment.  He was attached to me, so we took him with us, and he stayed waiting patiently in my jeep.  Thank goodness he had a sweater on and it wasn’t as cold as it had been, so he was content.

When I went to my appointment the Doctor said, I was going to be having a baby that day, and to go home and get my bags and head to the hospital ASAP.  It made so much sense, Bentley knew that something was going on; he could sense that I needed him there for me.  That’s why he just wouldn’t leave me.

When my son was born, he was right there beside him, he would lay with him and snuggle up to him, he always made sure we were okay in his own little way.

Bentley and Halen sleeping away, Halen is three days old here.  Bentley wouldn’t leave our side.

 

This past Friday, he died in his sleep.  I guess his age of 15 now had caught up with him.  He had a great life.  Thursday he was eating leftovers from Thanksgiving, and running around outside, and then just like that he was gone.

It’s always sad when an animal dies.  It’s like a part of you, is gone.  Bentley was there when I was happy, he was there when I was sad, and he was just there.   He will truly be missed.

Thanks for reading today.  I hope that everyone has a wonderful day!  Come back every day I am posting each day for the month of December!

-xoxo

Tiffany