the last kiss (m)

I got a call late this afternoon from my sister-in-law informing me that she and my brother Phil decided it was time to put down their dog, Boomer.

We all knew this day was fast approaching.  Boomer was diagnosed with prostate cancer in June and the vet recommended they put him down that same week.  My brother and his wife held a "wake" for Boomer in June and invited all their friends.  As people said goodbye to Boomer that evening, there were lots of tears and a few photos taken of him with various people.  I called my brother the next day and suggested he not put down a dog "whose tail was still wagging".  My brother agreed.  We got to enjoy him four more months.

Even though Boomer was my "dog nephew", I was quite fond of him.  He got so excited by my visits that he would pee all over the back hallway by the door when I entered.  His family asked that I give them a ten-minute warning before each arrival so they could first take him out to empty his bladder.  Boomer always sat by me and knew I was a soft touch when it came to treats.   Sometimes, I would buy the finest cut of meat and eat only half so I could bring him the other half.  We were fellow chow hounds.

Phil couldn't go to the animal hospital to put Boomer down.  It was too hard for him.  I was called to help support the family but, when I got there, my sister-in-law and nephew were just fine.  I was the one who cried throughout.  I was so upset, I confused the vet as to which one of us was Boomer's owner.

When it was my turn to say goodbye, I told him I loved him and leaned forward to kiss him.  He beat me to it, giving me a big lick on my face.  Everyone else was surprised saying he hadn't done that all day.

As it turns out, I got the last kiss.

My little friend has passed on.  I have no appetite.