Whispers in the Wind

       I stood in my front yard with my year-old Basset Hound named Hamlet. It was chilly in April in Pennsylvania and a cold breeze whipped against my exposed cheeks, making them rosy and cold to the touch. I mindlessly watched as Hamlet sniffed the frozen ground around us, my long red hair blowing every which way in the escalating speed of the wind. I enjoyed a good breeze, especially on warmer days. But the thing about the wind is that it always brings change. And that’s what I feared the most.

             Hamlet and I returned to the warmth of the house a few minutes later. I hadn’t even unclipped Hamlet’s leash yet when my phone rang. It was my job, which I thought was strange because I wasn’t scheduled to be in to work for another two hours.

             “Hello?”

             “Hi, Justine, it’s the front desk.”

             “Oh, hi.”

             “We know you’re not scheduled to come in until later, but we thought you’d want to know that Henry’s parents made the decision to put him down today. He hasn’t been getting any better and they don’t want him suffering anymore.”

             “What?” (I knew he hadn’t been feeling well, but I didn’t think it was THAT serious.)

             “The doctor is doing it this afternoon if you want to come say goodbye.”

             “Is his dad there?”

             “No, he said it would be too hard. But he knows Henry would appreciate you being here.”

             “I’ll be there. I’m leaving right now.”

             I hung up the phone and immediately reconnected Hamlet’s leash to his collar. We went back outside, into a rush of wind blowing through the garage in a vortex and jogged over to my car. A strong gust of wind almost ripped the passenger door right out of my hand as I opened it for Hamlet. My mind was racing as I got behind the steering wheel and sped off toward the veterinary hospital I worked at as the Assistant Manager of the boarding and daycare program.

             Henry was the Basset Hound who made me fall head over heels in love with the breed and the reason I brought Hamlet into my life. Even though he was an old boy, Henry was full of energy and attitude. His parents paid for him to get two hours of playtime, but I provided him with an infinite number of playtimes because he was a good boy and could be in all of the playgroups. (He also deserved the entire world, so I did my best to give that to him.)

             Whenever Henry wasn’t at playtime and had to be in his doggy run, you could hear him singing the song of his people from almost any room in our boarding area. Even though I spoiled him with the bedding fit for a king (multiple comforters), he just had to howl to tell everyone how displeased he was to not be receiving any attention. He never once lost his voice, despite being there five days a week, which was a true testament to the amount of spunk that old boy had.

             Walking Henry was always a chore because he personified the epitome of Basset Hound stubbornness. He needed to sniff every blade of grass and every piece of cement that made up the sidewalk. But his giant Basset butt waddled as he meandered along and I loved to get videos of him walking to songs like “Pretty Girls Walk” and “Wiggle.”

             Along with his big booty, Henry had short, stubby legs with enormous donut-sized paws. He had a long tail that mostly stuck straight out or slightly raised in a show of contentness. His long body was mostly white with some big apricot patches and small apricot freckles. His long, droopy ears were also apricot and were often tucked back behind his floppy jowls and neck rolls. The weight of his ears pulled his eyelids down, making them droopier than usual and exposing more of the red of his eyes than the white. His long white snout came to a freckled, dark red nose that was usually cold to the touch (I know because I kissed it a lot) and a very sassy, very stinky mouth. And he was so wide that when he laid down, he looked like an entire loaf of bread.

             The tears came as I drove along, allowing these thoughts to consume me. How was I supposed to be okay with losing Henry? How was I going to keep returning to work day after day with the absence of my best friend looming over me?

             I pulled my car into the parking lot and got Hamlet out of the passenger seat. I had to fight against the wind as I rushed inside to put Hamlet in his crate so I could make my way over to the hospital side of the building. Even though I told them I would be there, I worried they hadn’t waited for me, and I couldn’t shake the horrible feeling of Henry going through this alone.

             When I got to the back room of the hospital, I was horrified to find Henry already laid out on a towel atop a cold, steel table. A doctor and a vet tech were on either side of my best friend – they’d had no intention of waiting for me.

             “Oh, Justine, good! You made it!” the doctor said – everybody in that entire workplace knew how much Henry meant to me. “Go ahead and stand next to him. He’ll be happy to have you here.” (As if anything about this would bring happiness to anyone.)

             I rushed forward and took one massive paw in my hand while I caressed the side of Henry’s face with my other hand. His eyes moved up to meet mine and they widened with recognition as his tail wagged weakly, thumping softly against the table. (This was so wrong – he was alert and seemed fine – how could they do this?)

             “It’s okay, handsome,” I whispered, leaning in closer to the gentle face that I’d loved and cherished for two years. “You’re such a good boy and you are so loved. It’s okay to let go. We’ll be okay, I promise.”

             I held Henry’s paw and kissed the top of his head for several minutes, even after the tech told me he’d passed. I waited until I couldn’t hold in my weakness any longer, then kissed Henry one last time before sprinting out of the room and out of the building. Crumbling to my knees on the sidewalk, I buried my face in my hands and felt the big, warm tears streaming out of my eyes. My entire body convulsed with heavy sobs and I didn’t care who saw or heard me as I let go completely.

             Losing all track of time, I cried until I simply couldn’t cry anymore. I released my tear-stained face and looked up at the blue but cloudy sky, wondering why the universe just took my best friend from me. The calm air suddenly whipped up into a gust of wind around me, instantly drying the remaining tears on my cheeks.

             “Henry,” I whispered to myself and smiled knowing that he would always be with me.