TheBanyanTree: Abby

[LLDeMerle]

>  My sister Joan, has a dog, an 11 year-old border collie, named Abby.
> That is, she had a dog named Abby, until last night.
> 
> Abby has always been a crazy, energetic, happy dog.   Even so, this
> doesn't exactly explain why in the world, after all these years, Joan
> would come home to find her miniature, decorative milk can on the floor,
> open and empty.  Empty in the sense that all of the coins inside of this
> can were nowhere to be found.  
> 
> The next thing Joan noticed were spots of barf here and there around the
> house.  Abby acted as though nothing unusual had  occurred, however, her
> resumed barfing gave it all away.
> 
> Joan called our stepsister, Dawn, who lives across the street.  Dawn
> rushed over and together they tried to think this through.  They called
> the veterinarian who sent them to an emergency pet hospital.  After
> x-rays, it was determined that Abby had about a fist-sized  pile of coins
> in her belly.  An operation was going to cost Joan between $1,000 and
> $1,500 dollars.  Recovery care at the little dog nursing home?  Extra.
> Babysitting for when she was released?  How was that going to happen?
> After a very long and torturous discussion with Dawn, Joan came to the
> agonizing decision that even if she borrowed the money to pay for Abby's
> surgery, whereby they might lose her since she had a heart problem, that
> financially, surgery was just not an option.  She could get the money
> easily,  however, repaying it while trying to keep her ailing Subaru on
> the road was simply more than she was able to do.  So, they sobbed their
> hearts out and came home.  Abby was put down and cremated.  Joan told me
> all about this on the phone at 7:30 AM while she scrubbed barf spots on
> her hands and knees.  After she wailed in grief.
> 
> This is just incomprehensible. This dog has never done anything like this
> in eleven years.  Mind-boggling and sad as this is, the sick and twisted
> part of me wondered if there would be a pile of pennies in the ashes.  As
> I made Joan promise me that she would stop torturing herself over her
> decision, all I could think was that although this adventure ended Abby's
> life, at least she had a real fun time, yesterday.  Until the barfing, of
> course.  That made Joan laugh just a little.
> 
> It was quiet, today, when we spoke on the phone.  Usually, the sound of
> two dogs, Abby and Lizzy, Abby's partner in crime, trying to rip the
> Frisbee out of each other's mouths makes it difficult to hear Joan.  I
> often have to ask her to speak to her children and remind them that we are
> on the phone.  The quiet usually lasted a full 30 seconds.  Sometimes
> longer.  Anyway, today, the house is like a tomb: quiet.   Too quiet.
> 
> Poor Joan.  Poor Abby.  Poor Lizzy.  :(
> 
> 
> 
> LL                                              
> 
>