In 1984, … Aloka’s health started to go downhill. Her back legs became weak and she had to drag herself around. Finally, I knew I had to do the responsible thing and put her to sleep. Aloka had been with me for fifteen years and I did not want to let her go. When I got her from the pound in Taos, just weaned, she had fit into the palm of my hand. I had nursed her through distemper and felt her decide to live. We had been inseparable for years during my twenties and now my thirties. Other relationships had come and gone, but she was still with me, and when I was away from home, my thirteen-year old son often kept her company. She was a part of our lives and the thought of her death brought up pain. My heart felt tight. I didn’t know if I could do it. But I couldn’t let her suffer, and so I called her vet.
©2022 Marianna Mejia