The (Sometimes Un)Natural Order of Things

Last night I had to put one of my dogs down. She was diagnosed with TCC (transitional cell carcinoma, a form of bladder cancer) about nine months ago. The cancer was responding relatively well to Piroxicam (a form of medicine that is somewhat effective with TCC), but she was still losing weight and muscle mass. Her brain was still sharp, but her body was wasting away. Her fur coat becoming dry and increasingly patchy was the first clue, but when she started spending a lot more time at my feet, and was having difficulty walking up and down the stairs I knew that the end was near. Still, I had hoped to have another month or two... as long as she still had that spark in her eye.

Unfortunately, last night was the end. She laid down and was very still for a while. Then, out of nowhere, she started barking, as if she was chasing a rabbit in a dream. She had done this dream barking for years, but this time it was different. It was a full-on bark, except it was weak. And it just kept going. We all tried to calm her down, including our other dog Duchess, but it was like she was kind of in between dreaming and consciousness. After trying unsuccessfully for five or ten minutes to wait it out, my wife, my younger daughter, Duchess and I took her in to the vet. I think we all knew what was coming, because the barking grew weaker as we traveled, and I had to carry her every step of the way.

The wife and I had both grown up around pets, but it was the first time either of us had put down a dog. We all cried as we gathered around Athena for that last goodbye, who was still doing that bark. It's kind of like she saw the Grim Reaper and was trying to keep him away. It sucked -- in fact, it REALLY sucked, but this is kind of the natural order of things. She went quickly and peacefully, but again, it sucked.

What's not natural though, is burying your younger brother. My guy Antoine had to do this today. Antoine's younger brother died in a motorcycle accident last Saturday. This is not natural. One should never have to bury their younger sibling -- especially a sibling who hasn't lived to 30, and one should never have to bury their children, like Willie and Marilyn had to do today. Though CJ was a distant friend or close acquaintance, I was fond of him, and sorry for his passing in its own right. Antoine, however, is as close to me as my own brothers, and by extension, Willie and Marilyn are like surrogate parents. Their grief brought many tears of empathy, though I never shared these tears with the family. They had enough grief of their own; they didn't need to hear about my sympathy grief.

But the funeral!! Oh my GOD!! It was an epic event. Now, I want to be clear about this. When I say "epic," I'm not just throwing out the superlative du jour. I'm not comparing this to the "epic fail" of some young kid falling off of his skateboard and busting his balls. No, this was an Epic Event, both in length and intensity. CJ was a rider, and I was asked to ride in the motorcycle brigade, which was something straight out of the movies. The brigade was approximately a block long, running two wide. The church was huge, and packed to standing room only.

Now is the time where I should mention that CJ and his family are black. I'm saying this only because it's pertinent to the story. It's pertinent because the memorial service was stereotypically black, complete with joyous gospel music and dancing in the aisles. Yes, there was mourning, but it wasn't the somber, prim and proper, stoic funeral that I've come to know over the years. There was laughter, and singing and reminiscing. And, by the way, it was a color-blind service. Bikers and brothers (and brother-bikers... yes, they do exist!!) were hugging and laughing and joking and thanking one-another for their show of love and support. I just kept thinking "When I go out, I want it to be like this. I don't want my death to be mourned, I want my life to be celebrated!"

After the ceremony, the brigade escorted CJ to the grave site, where he was buried with military honors, in memory of his Army service. And agin, I was amazed. After the flag was presented, the senior army official (I think he was a warrant officer, but I don't know my army rank, so I'm not sure) actually spoke with the family and got laughs! This guy has something... that... just... can't... be... explained.

In the end, you never want to see that body lowered into the ground, but it happens. Those closest to CJ put their hand on the coffin for one or two last moments, composed themselves, and walked away... most with expressions of wistful serenity. Thus was restored the natural order of things.