The Master Put Down

Eunice sadly decided that it was time. Not that Fluffy was particularly old. Her adorable little miniature poodle was only a little over eight and might be expected to live another eight or ten years. It was more that Eunice herself was getting on in years and could no longer take Fluffy for her numerous walks. Nor could her increasing delicate psyche take Fluffy’s nervous vigor. This over-energetic dog was constantly running to the front window to bark at passer-bys or delivery men. Fluffy also frequently browsed and selected a squeaking dog toy from her basket and chewed on it for hours until it finally gave up its squeaker … only to be quickly replaced by another rubber fire hydrant or stuffed mailman by one of Eunice’s numerous grandchildren or neighbors.

It was all getting to be too much, so Eunice called the vet and made that auspicious appointment for the very next day to put Fluffy “to sleep”. She tossed and turned all that night worrying how she could go through with this fateful decision. But, through a vale of tears, she drove Fluffy to the veterinarian in plenty of time to meet their three-fifteen appointment with destiny. She parked her sensible hybrid vehicle where it said “visitors” and put Fluffy on her sequined leash. As they were walking into the vets’ office there was a cacophony of barking coming from the next-door kennels. Fluffy responded with her own vigorous series of yaps and yips.

Once in the vets’ office Eunice and Fluffy were escorted into a room that had already been prepared for their visit. There was a thick blanket on the floor and a series of scary implements on the examining table … a syringe, an electric razor, and a series of liquid-filled vials. Eunice was told how this “procedure” would go. She was asked if she wanted to have Fluffy cremated and put in a monogrammed brass urn. She nodded assent.  Finally, she opted to have a plaster cast of Eunice’s paw made and sent to her. Eunice was then instructed by the attendant to sit with Fluffy on the blanket and try to keep her calm while her credit card was hit for $568 for a long series of these and other manufactured charges. Finally Eunice was given a box of Kleenex and told that the “doctor” would be in shortly to “see” Fluffy and that Eunice could then leave by the back door.

Eunice had a good cry and stroked Fluffy and told her how much she loved her and how much she would be missed. After what seemed like an eternity there was a soft knock at the door. Eunice sobbed, “Come in.” When the door opened, instead of a white-coated veterinarian, there, standing on their haunches, were three gigantic dogs – an Irish wolfhound, a mastiff, and a Great Dane that together must have weighed five hundred pounds.

Fluffy gave a yelp of friendly recognition. Then, as the mastiff reached for the syringe, Eunice realized what was to take place next. She screamed and fainted dead away.

© Copyright George W. Potts