Greta's Uncle BillIt's a sad time here at Dachshund Delights as Greta Doodle will woefully tell you. (If you are not familiar with who The Doodles are, click here to read their story).
But he doesn't come to see me any more … and I don't know why. He would pick me up first and hug me and tell me what a pretty girl I am. I would nuzzle and paw his beard and give him lots of kisses. He would then cradle me in his arms and I would settle in to tell him my woeful story of the day that no one else would believe. I would sometimes gently stroke his beard with my paw to make sure he understood the seriousness of my problem. Sometimes he would sit on the floor with his legs stretched out and I would lie on my back in his lap … those were for really long stories. Sometimes I would fall asleep telling him all about it. But he doesn't come here any more. I missed him so much that my Aunt Helene took me to see him. She told me that my Uncle Bill was very sick and very tired. So she took me to their home and my Uncle Bill was there. He was sitting on the couch waiting just for me. I knew he was my Uncle Bill, but he smelled funny. The smells were kind of like the scents at the dog hospital...only I think his smells came from a people hospital. His skin was a different color, too. Even though he seemed happy to see me, he didn't pick me up. My Aunt Helene had to pick me up and put me on his lap. I gave him lots of kisses and told him how much I missed him. He said he was happy to see me, too. He couldn't hold me very long so I laid still right beside him. I had so much to tell him. I knew he was the only one who would believe me. I started to tell him my stories, but pretty soon his eyes started to close and he said he was very tired and needed to go lay in his bed. I wanted to go, too, but Aunt Helene said I might get caught in the tubes that were sticking in his body. I didn't understand what was happening to my Uncle Bill. Why wouldn't he play with me? Why couldn't I tell him all of my stories? A few days ago my mom took Garbo and me over to Aunt Helene's – but Uncle Bill wasn't there. I ran all over the place looking for him. I could smell him on his things … but I couldn't find him – not even hiding under the bed. My Aunt Helene picked me up and hugged me. She had salty water coming out of her eyes. She told me that Uncle Bill wasn't here any more. She said he was playing with Princess and Grandma Peewee and Stubby. But I didn't understand that because they've gone away, too. She said something about Cancer making Uncle Bill go away. I don't think I like Cancer. It took away my Uncle Bill. I don't know who Cancer is, but if I ever see it, I'm going to ask it to give me back my Uncle Bill. He was my Uncle Bill. No one loved me like Uncle Bill. And no one else believed my stories like Uncle Bill. I'm not sure what I'll do now. I guess I'll just have to wait until I see him again. And then we'll have forever to share our stories. In memory and honor of Bill Laird 1933-2001 |