No Quitter Piggy, He Had to be Put to Sleep

Yepper. Crumby and me keep dogs for company. One of our dogs, Pig, just got put to sleep. He had to be put down because he was too sick to walk, from the arthritis. Plus, near the end, either me or Crumby or somebody would have to hold him up to drink his water. Plus, he was, at the end, secreting some fairly unpleasant secretions that me or Crumby would have to wipe up. However, he ate a good last meal, treats mostly, toikey and an all beef weenie.

So the Pig is dead now, Praise the Goddess. But also, Praise the Goddess, Pig is born again, to the Cymry, or whoever needs a dog like him, maybe. But first, he gets to fool around in Tirnanach until the Goddess figures out who needs a dog just like him, fer company.

Pigwig never went anywhere he did not want to go under his own volition. That way, he got carried a lot. Crumby and me figure we may have toted him a tousand or maybe two tousand cubits all told. That may be a conservative figure, depending on the actual length of a cubit.

Anyway, we buried him head toward our friendly guide star and facing east, in line with the ecliptic. But that’s just for the living, surmising that he might need a friendly guide star or take up with the big dog and the little dogs when he sees them come yipping along. Yep. We put him in the shade of a big tree. Pigwig always liked a canopy cover. Praise the Goddess, it is up to Her now on the future disposition of Piggy. He was a good dog and lotsa fun, though often contrary in his opinions, as good dogs sometimes are.

Crumby, my bosom companion, any thoughts?

Yepper Ray, I have or thought or two. I shall miss my friend of these many moons. Getting the arthritis is a terrible affliction for an old dog. And Pig had a great many other afflictions to suffer in addition to the arthritis. But he was a brave heart to the very end and I shall often think of him for evermore. Praise the Goddess. That’s all, Ray.

All righty then.

All righty then.