“Dr. Emily and her vet tech Kate show up to my house at seven p.m. and we decide to do the euthanasia outside on my back patio. I don’t want Petunia’s soul getting stuck in the house. I want it to float up and out into the sky. Dr. Emily walks me through exactly how it will go. First Petunia will get a medication that will make her sleep. Once she’s asleep she won’t feel anything. Then she will receive medication to slowly and peacefully stop her heart. The whole thing should take around twenty minutes.
“Do you want a few minutes alone with her before we start?” Dr. Emily’s voice is soft. She places her hand on my back. Both she and Kate have known Petunia for years, and like everyone who knows Petunia, they love her. Petunia will die surrounded by love.
I pick my beloved dog up into my arms and walk with her from room to room of our house, recounting all the things we did together in those sacred spaces.
In the kitchen, I say “This is where you watched me bake banana bread and licked spilled flour dustings from the floor.”
In the dining room: “This is where we ate dinner. Remember how beautiful it looked the first night I lit all the candles?”
In the living room: “This is where we watched movies.”
And in my office, my favorite room, the room where my new career and life have flourished, I say “This is where we pulled tarot cards every morning. This is where you helped me sew lampshades. This is where you kept me company while I edited all the photographs.”