Hailey Died Yesterday

I spent most of the day yesterday back at the house, Jack and Sherry's. The other pets got word to me that Hailey was dying.

I am one of those rare weredogs who has a natural and strange affection for cats. Domestic house cats. I have no desire to get cozy with a tiger or lion, or even to mess with a cougar. But I always get tight with the cats with whom I share abodes. And Hailey was one special cat.

I let myself in and spent most of the day with Hailey. I knew the moment I smelled her that she was nearly done. She was down to 3 pounds, form her healthy weight of 10 pounds. She could barely move, had found a spot to die in the boys bathroom, on the floor, curled up on the damp towel dropped there that morning after a shower.

I sat by her most of the day, petting and touching her lightly. The other pets were nearby. Canines do this because for millions of years pack members kept guard for older or sick dying pack members, to keep predators at bay, so that they could die at their leisure, with some comfort and dignity.

 I put my nose to her and sniffed her a lot, knowing that after that I would never smell her again. I have a vast memory of smells from other my years, of those loved and less loved. Their faces always fade from my memory long before their scents.

I slipped out the back just as the boys were getting home from football practice. It would have been awkward for them to find me there. But part of me wanted that to happen.

I am thinking of going back, to live with Jack and Sherry and the boys. Stranger things have happened. They would just pass it off as another of those amazing dogs who travel amazing distances, or disappear and reappear, to regain their families.

Most of those dogs, by the way, are weredogs. Go figure.