dreamt I was dying...
I was condemned to death.
The vicar who was in charge of proceedings stood over me.
My hands were palm to palm in front of me in prayer.
I could see my little much loved dog Lettice curled up asleep. Touching her a friend said
‘She’s dead!’
I knew.
I slowly leant sideways, knowing
I wasn’t ready to die.
You, choose the time?
If you are ready, not before.
Is this what dying is like
I idly wonder?
g
I dread the thought of my dog dying; more so even than most humans I know. As for 'choosing the time'.....
ReplyDeleteUnconditional love is what you get from a dog. Lettice has been dead for nearly four years, by my hand... I picked up the phone to arrange for the vet to come. It was a hard, hard decision to take.
ReplyDelete