Doggie Breath

My dad always liked to say that we’re an “equal opportunity family.”

They’re black, I’m white. They’re 15 years old (or 105 in human years), I’m 20. They smell awful all the time from every orifice, I like to think that my odor is somewhat tolerable at least some of the time. They’re my sisters.

My sisters are two 14-year-old black labs.

My sisters are two 14-year-old black labs.

As an only child, they’re all I’ve ever had.

Tomorrow is the day they go to Heaven.

Losing both my sisters at the same time is something I’ve been dreading for a while. I’m trying to justify it in that Coco has been more and more wobbly lately, while she and Spooky have both been steadily losing control of their bowels.

I once read something online about why dogs’ lives are shorter than humans’. It was before a friend of mine’s dog died and I wanted to know how to comfort him when the time came. It said that people come into this world to learn how to live a good life, how to love one another, and it takes us a long time, roughly 70-80 years. But dogs are born knowing how to live and how to love so they don’t have to stay as long.

That’s the beauty in animals. Unconditional love.

Their love has kept my life so full for so long. It’ll be hard to let them both go at the same time, but their mom brought them into this world together so it’s only right that they should leave it the same way: together.

It’s really unfair that dogs can’t decide for themselves, when it’s their time to go. How can a person have the ability, burden even, to choose when the life of someone else ends?

My dad always said he would know when it was time for them to go because they’d be able to tell him. He’s not here now, so it’s been up to my mom and I. I just hope this unusually sunny day is dad saying he’s ready for them. It’s time. Send ’em up.

Spooky (red collar) and Coco (blue collar) taking a napDoggie breath is a wonderful smell that’s always followed by loving kisses.

I’m going to miss it.