A Memorial to a ‘good dog’.
This past Saturday, May 23,2009 Celeste passed away. Celeste was a very good dog. She was my darling apricot poodle and never has any dog wanted more to be a ‘good dog’. She fretted so much about being a good dog that on those rare occasions when ‘bad’ may have been used, we often decided it wasn’t ‘that bad’. She was crushed on those rare occasions when the word was used. In fact, we viritually never used the word in our house because her ears perked right up and she got that hurt look on her face, so we were guarded about using even the word. She was a good dog.
Celeste would have been 17 years old had she lived until August. My family and I had talked occasionally about the fact that she was ‘older’ and we had always been concerned about the day when we would have to give her up. She was a proud dog and somewhat nervous but she had total confidence in ‘Mama’. She loved to wear clothes as they kept her warm and she ‘strutted’ when she had her hair freshly done. Celeste also had complete loyalty to Mama. About a year ago when she was already experiencing declining ability to hear and see, she took total care of Mama when I came out of the hospital. She refused to go anywhere that she couldn’t ‘touch’ me and at night she refused to go to bed until I was already in bed. Even I was disobeyed when I told her to go on to bed during that time period. She simply wouldn’t go until I was in bed.
At the end, she had congestive heart failure and in the final stages, passed quickly. When my husband found her in the floor dying, I went running to her. I wasn’t ready for her to go, so I was sobbing. Although she couldn’t hear, I was rubbing her head and she could sense that I was upset and she tried to raise her head in an effort to come and comfort me. My husband stayed with her though I had to leave the room in her best interest. He was upset too, but she never felt that he needed comforting. She was such a caring dog.
Rest in peace, my baby, my good dog. I love you.