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Here is the tale as it came to me last night, a piece at a time.
Once there was a dog-- perhaps she was not a very well-behaved dog. Or perhaps she was simply too big, or too furry, or ate too much, or perhaps something happened to her people, and she became a rescued dog. Her name was Sequoyah.
And once upon a time, there was a little girl, who served her Lord as a Christian, and grew up to be a lady and to serve her country as a soldier. And one day, something happened, and she was hurt, and they sent her home to her little house in the country, to live there as best she could.
And being all alone in her little house, knowing she was not meant to be alone, she became a dog rescuer. Although it had been hard to get up and care for herself and the house, once she had someone else to care for, it became easier, and soon she had six dogs in her little house, and the local vet came out to see her and the dogs because she could not come in to his office. And Sequoyah was one of her dogs.
One night, Sequoyah became sick, and her lady knew that her time had come, and she sat up with her, that night and the next, watching her to make sure that she was not in pain. For if she was in pain, then the lady would have to decide whether she, disabled and alone, would hurt her dog worse by getting her out to the yard and ending her life, or by making her wait for the vet to arrive when he could.
She watched and she watched, and then in the morning she called and asked the vet to come out when he could that day, and bring Sequoyah's life to a peaceful end. For Sequoyah was not in pain, and she could wait; the only one suffering was her lady, who continued to sit and watch with her.
Sometime soon-- or maybe it has already happened-- a kind veterinarian will drive out to the little house in the country, and then it will be the end of the time for watching and the beginning of mourning.
This post is unlocked; I don't have permission to share the names of those involved, but I promise that you know them, or you know someone like them.
And remember that there are stories like this one around you, every day, that you never even know about.
