Farewell Sweet Honey

Miami Cubans love to tell a joke about the longevity of their hated Fidel: The president of Chile gave Fidel a famous Galapagos tortoise as a state gift. Fidel turned to Raul and said "Eh -- the problem with pets is you get so close to them and they die on you." Our neighbors in Kendall (now East Kendall) had a gorgeous Yellow Lab named Blondie, and they bred her with a stud from the Redlands. 10 pups were born, and we got our choice. The Ds were 7 and 4, and picked the reddest one of them, and called her "Ketchup." As soon as she was whelped, we took her across the street and she joined the pack of our aging Black Lab Midnight -- a dark version of the famous Marley, and Alfred the Cocker Spaniel. They decided that the puppy was too sweet to be called Ketchup,and instead she became Honey. She was the best dog of all time. She slept with the Ds, and, other than some chewing of patio furniture, was no problem at all. In fact, until her senescence, late in life, there was only one accident in the house, and it became the source of family yore: Poor Honey had a virus, and D2, in Middle School, awoke to a room full of steamy dog diarrheah. Wifey came down, and the two set about cleaning the various spots. D1 awoke, and asked what was going on. For comic relief, Wifey said "D2 didn't feel too good, and pooped all over." D1, brilliant and just as gullible, conforted her sister. "Oh, poor D2...what's wrong?" D2 looked up at her sister, and asked "Do you really think I hopped around the room like a frog, pooping wherever I landed?" Midnight, like most Labs, died pretty young -- at 12. Honey and Alfred moved to Pinecrest with us in '01, and Alfred became old Alfred, and died a few years later. Honey went on -- giving nothing but love and confort to all of us. Even folks who didn't like dogs loved Honey -- she was so gentle, and sweet, and lovely to be around. She was such a treasured part of our family -- especially to Wifey and the Ds. I remember when Wifey and I got married -- we worried after our dogs like we now do our kids. We went to California, and my mother house and dog sat. We called daily to check on the dogs. After we were blessed with human kids, things changed for me. I LIKE my dogs, but they went down a few steps in my heart. Wifey says it shows coldness on my part -- maybe she's right. So Honey was there as D1 graduated high school, and college, and finished classwork for her Master's degree. D2 confided in her yellow puppy all through high school, and missed her as she entered college. I truly thought Honey would die before that, but like the Energizer bunny, and my mother, she just kept on and on. The past years were tough. She had many accidents, and we confined her to one area in the house. We used to take her on mile walks, and about a year ago, at 15, she'd turn and walk away when we got the leash out. Lately, she had become like a ghost --it hurt her legs to sit down, and she'd just wander the house. We had a big party in January, and several folks told us gently it was time to put her down. ButI hoped to give D2 a chance to say goodbye -- she's due here for Spring Break Friday. It wasn't to be. Yesterday D1 called from the house -- she could barely rouse Honey from sleep. And today, her legs barely supported her. Wifey and I had a deal with our first 2 dogs: I would be the one to take Midnight when the time came, and she would take Alfred. I took Midnight to his final sleep, and then, years later, when it was time for Alfred, Wifey bravely looked at me, started crying that she simply couldn't, and left me to reprise my role of doggie Dr. Mendele... This time, Wifey did go. We waited in the exam room, and the truly caring Dr. Dugan came in -- saddened. He knew Honey well, and said she was the oldest full breed Labrador he ever saw. He praised us for the life and care we gave her. And then he gave the 2 IVs, and Honey slept -- peacefully. Andy Rooney said some of the best people he ever met were dogs. So it was with Honey -- our Yellow Puppy...