Lily-the-dog died yesterday after a couple of days of not walking or eating. We kept a care rota so people were with her, she wasn't scared, didn't have to drag herself about to find someone.
Yesterdays 4.00 o'clock afternoon shift was me taking over from Bob, who left to go to the field, and Ian who just turned up. She died at 10 past.
I write this because of the weirdness that happened...
She was trying to raise her head and having trouble breathing. I put a pillow under her head. Ian said that made it harder to breathe. I took it away. She continued to try and lift her head so I put it back - she tried to raise it higher. She seemed to be looking at something.
She'd had cataracts for years and was virtually blind.
I asked her what she was looking at, while stroking her head. She turned to me and looked me straight in the eyes.
Her eyes were totally brown. Smallish pupil (we were in sunlight by the back door) but the irises the colour of toffee, a young conker. Slightly reddish brown, but perfectly clear, perfectly well.
I was gaping with astonishment when they silvered over as she threw back her head and died.
Very haunting, those eyes.
No comments:
Post a Comment