Her Collar

Our dog’s collars have been part of their identity. This goes beyond a dog license or a medallion indicating rabies vaccination; it is the one piece of attire that they weren’t born with, the item that is bestowed upon them by their human parents, their Mom and Dad.

          When we remove collars to replace a dog license or vaccination tag there is a look of anxiety, a sense of the uncomfortable that does not abate until the collar is once again where it belongs, on our beloved pet.

          “We need to remember to bring her collar with us when we leave,” I said to Vickie as we sat in the waiting room. I thought it best to verbalize this important matter, lest when overwhelmed with emotion we forget – though I don’t know how we would forget such a thing.

          We would not remove her collar until she was gone, until she had breathed her last, until her precious heart ceased beating. We wanted her to know that she was ours until that last breath, that she was loved, that she will always be loved.

          A last kiss. Another “We love you.” A last stroke of her head.

          I gently removed her collar.