Wednesday night,
a week ago,
around 10 o'clock,
we said good bye to our Zoey.
Bill and Jared buried her out beyond the ivy.
Near the old compost heap
where she loved to bury
her biscuits and bones.
A piece of concrete,
I scavenged from the roadside,
now serves as her tombstone.
A few of the rocks that were lining my flower beds have been carted out there to edge her grave.
We placed a little concrete Dachshund statue
that was sitting near the shed
at the head of the grave.
It was a very sad night.
That night she asked to go outside, as she had done countless times a day and night over the past 15 years.
Jared let her out the side door,
and she and Gypsy went out
on one of their adventures.
Gypsy came back without Zoey that night.
That wasn't that unusual, but after a while
when there was still no Zoey,
Bill went to investigate.
He found her near my potting shed.
He came in, told me first,
then told Jared.
A neighbor gave Zoey to Jared,
when he was around 10 years old.
Even though he will be 26 next week,
the little boy and his dog bond
was still strong.
He loved her.
We loved her.
She loved us.
Oh, she had some deep dark secrets, as we all do.
She ate the heads off of some kittens once,
and she antagonized the moles in our yard,
as well as,
anyone walking by our property.
She chased deer, but those pesky, but cute, raccoons, she ignored.
She was stubborn, and very smart.
She loved our cats, and they loved her.
The day after she died, our cat Violet,
when asked where Zoey was,
walked straight to the grave.
She started rolling on the piece of concrete,
and rubbing against the rocks,
as if to say her Zoey was resting there.
I do believe the cats,
Violet and Duncan,
and our Yorkie, Gypsy
understand the events of that night.
I think they are grieving too.
We are all still expecting to see Zoey in her bed
or hear her scratch at the door.
She was a very good friend,
and a wonderful part of our family.
We'll always miss her.