Friday morning the husband sent a cryptic text, “You need to come to the wound care center today.” Even for someone who sends short messages with no emojis, that was brief. When I asked which dog, he replied, “Either.”
I was taking Gus to Providence Tarzana to visit and figured, since the center is just next door, that he’d be the logical choice. Gus has still been mourning Elbee so I hoped that going to work would help to cheer him up just like it did Stanley.
From the moment we entered the lobby, he was on. His tail started wagging. The
Gus “smile,” that we’ve seen very little of lately, was back. By then, the staff knew about Elbee so they all made a special effort for Gus. It was mutual therapy.
One patient visit really stood out. An adorable toddler, carrying her special stuffed animal, was in the Pediatrics hallway with her parents. Seeing the delighted look on her face at the sight of Gus, I had him dance for her, wave and play peek-a-boo. All of a sudden, giggling, she tried to give him her toy. The parents were amazed because she never shares it with anyone!
Of course there was the other patient who was happily petting Gus and taking pictures when suddenly she looked at me and asked if he was straight. I could only imagine what Elbee would have had to say about that one!
As we left the hospital and headed over to the wound care center, I assumed it must just be a hectic day when they needed a little dog love. Instead, after warm greetings and condolences about Elbee, the staff gathered around us as someone carried out a huge basket. At first I thought it must be a cake or maybe flowers, but when I saw what was inside, I started to cry.
There was a stone plaque with a poem that read:
“Missing your unconditional love and playful paws, we are now apart. You’re gone from our lives, but never from our heart.”
There were also three smaller stones. Each had paw prints and a date of passing. One said “Charley.” One said “Riley,” and one said Elbee. They were hoping we would put them in the yard near Charley’s bushes.
Charley burrowed under the purple flowering bushes on the morning that he left us. I knew the end was near for Elbee when he wanted to lay in the same place. As with the stones, there is beauty, peace and sadness in Charley’s bushes. There is also the immeasurable comfort of remembrance.
By the way, I just heard from Elbee informing me that the sentence above should have read “there are beauty, peace and sadness.”
