Fathers and Farewells

“Mommy is this like a funeral?” whispered Rachel’s five year old.

“A little bit, baby.”

“What’s going to happen to Ripper?”

“He’s going to be put to sleep.”

Pause.

“He ain’t gonna wake up is he?”

Rachel shook her head and hugged her son to her side.

The family crowded around the table where the vet held Ripper. He gave their beloved terrier an injection and then said quietly, “It should be about five to ten minutes.”

“Thank you doctor,” Valerie said.

He isn’t even fighting, Karen thought sadly, holding one of his paws. She didn’t notice when the others started leaving until Ripper lifted his head to lick her fingers.

Tears filled her eyes as she picked him up and left the den. She carried him outside and went to her childhood spot under the willow.

A hole had already been prepared. Now she was just waiting.

She sat, Ripper cradled in her arms with her back against the trunk of the tree. Alpha moped beside her.