P is for Punched in the Gut {Blogging Through the Alphabet}

P is for Punched in the Gut

I want to warn you ahead of time, this won't be a very enjoyable post to read. Just wanted to make you aware.

Yesterday, we were planning to head to the Jackson, Mississippi, area, to visit Hubby's mother, so we were up a bit earlier than usual. The kids had to tend the animals first, and Hubby wanted to eat breakfast at the breakfast buffet at Shoney's up in the Jackson area.

A few minutes after the younger two boys and Jen went out to care for the animals, Little Bit came to me, crying so hard it was difficult for him to talk. He told me that Blaireau, our beautiful Great Pyrenees, was dead!

I nearly yelled, "What?!"

I went back out with him, to find the other two weeping over the cold, lifeless form of our beloved dog.

We then spent awhile trying to figure out what happened (personally, I suspect he was poisoned, but I don't really know), grieving, and then digging a hole, and burying him. I didn't really want to, but I did end up taking photos. I'm not sure I will ever be able to post any of them.

A scene that's etched in to my memory now: Jennifer, crumpled on the ground, hugging our dead dog.  And another: Botanist Boy so full of emotion, he kicked the goats' water bucket over. And then: the boys digging the hole, and covering the dog with that cold, hard, wet clay soil.

Anyway, we headed for Hubby's mom's an hour later than he wanted to leave, which meant we would miss out on the buffet. So we stopped at Cracker Barrel in Brookhaven. While we were there, Hubby's mom called him to say she wasn't feeling well at all; she was going to see the doctor, and they would probably admit her to the hospital.

At this point, we could have decided to just come back home, instead. But life as fragile and uncertain as it is, we felt it was important for us to go ahead and go on to see his mom. Plus, we had a Christmas present for her: a digital picture frame, with a memory card in it loaded with pictures of our family, etc.

We met her at the doctor's office. Hubby and his brother went in with her. After awhile, yes, they wheeled her over to the hospital in her wheelchair, and she was admitted. By now, one of Hubby's sisters was also there. (Three of Hubby's siblings live on the same property as their mom).

We stayed for a short while after she was settled in to her room, but then had to go find something for us to eat. We were back home by about 7:00 or 7:30. A long, emotional day!

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