Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Losing a loved one - Miru the Dog
I woke up this morning at 2 am. My throat was sore, tonsils swollen. I haven't been sleeping very well since we got back to Lilongwe.
I was wide awake, but not thinking clearly about the day ahead. Yesterday I asked Lovemore to dig a hole; he is our gardener. I hadn't looked up close to see how deep it was.
Kate had looked first thing after she got home from work. The hole is in the back yard between the compost pit and the back wall. She asked me to dig it deeper.
Lucy was Kate's first dog ever. Lucy is young and full of energy. Kate has never had the experience of putting a dog down.
We inherited Milo and Miru when we moved to Malawi. They were guard dogs. We brought them with us to the new house.
We think Miru is 14-15 years old. We have vet records, but no one is really certain. She is a common Malawi mutt mix.
She has struggled to walk for about six months, and has gotten worse and worse. Her back end seems paralyzed now; she doesn't move much. She has sores all over her ears from where the files have bitten her.
Being away for a month made her deterioration more apparent. We called the Belgian vet who told us to dig a hole 1 1/2 meters deep. She said she would be here Tuesday afternoon at 3 to put Miru to sleep.
I looked for the pick ax and shovel that Lovemore had used. I found them behind the guard shack next to the front gate. They were rusty with splintery handles.
Milo is in the storage room next to the house. Milo senses something is going to happen today. He is not moving from underneath the shelves where he usually sleeps, and won't turn his head to look at me when I call his name.
I dropped into the hole. It was 4 feet long, 1 1/2 feet wide. The first swing of the pick hit rock.
The bottom of the hole was clay with rocks everywhere. I know why Lovemore only dug it this deep. I didn't want to give Kate anything more to worry about, not even something little.
I pinged rock by rock, scraping and pulling a shovel full of dirt at a time. My throat didn't hurt while I was digging. I had time to think.
It is very humid here and I was sweating. The handles of the pick and shovel made it tough to maneuver in the hole. I felt like I wasn't making much progress.
A knot on the pick handle started blistering my hands; there are not callouses any more. I pulled a tape measure. It would have to do for today.
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