Who says irony is dead?

While making the grim phone call to the vet researching whether and how they schedule a home visit for euthanasia (backstory here), I am put on hold by the receptionist.

Muzak kicks in, and it’s Harry Connick, Jr. singing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”

I’m just saying that art will never be capable of rendering even a reasonable facsimile of life, and if ever it did, people would dismiss it as utterly implausibale.

4 thoughts on “Who says irony is dead?”

  1. So sorry about the poor health of your friend. My 14 year old german shepherd died last year, so I can relate.
    Here’s something that worked really well for a friend of mine…if you can find a vet that you can convince to trust you not to be some weird drug addict, they can give you a strong tranquilizer which you can administer to your doggy yourself when the time comes. That way she just goes to sleep surrounded by loved ones, not around a stranger or scary smells. Then you take her unconscious self to the vet or have the vet come and administer the drug that finishes the job.
    Unfortunately it didn’t happen that way for my baby. She died suddenly and not very peacefully. We never saw “the bus” coming.

  2. Thank you, Ansett. The outpouring of compassion — and wisdom, and advice — has been very helpful. It is excrutiating to be in the position of having to decide when, and how, such a momentious event should happen. Thank you for your story, and for sharing that load.

  3. Just wanted to tell you I’m so sorry to hear about your dog. My wife and I read your post about the heart condition and cried, thinking how hard road is and also about dogs past (Twixy, my wife’s childhood dog who also died from heart problems).

    There’s a beach in Gloucester, Massachusetts where tons of dogs hang out with their people. Kids play in the creek under the foot bridge, people toss balls and sticks to thier pups, who fetch, swim, and have a total party. In the afternoon, the light reflects off of the wet sand and it gets a little foggy, like a beach version of the end of the movie Ghost with the white light. It’s peaceful and beautiful and filled with laughter. I know it sounds totally hokey, but I hope that your dog ends up somewhere like that. All that love has to go somewhere, right?

    Hope you and your family are ok. I found your blog after reading, “Confessions of the Other Mother” and finally completely understood what Stuart Hall was yappin’ about. Thank you for writing what you write, and for writing it so eloquently.

  4. When it was time for our old one, a few years back, our vet (bless him) arranged to do it in the backseat of our car at the parking lot of his office. That way her last experience was going for a ride in the car, which she loved, as opposed to going to the vet, which she did not.

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