A Wawa and her boys

This is my mom.  But we call her Wawa.  It's a long story, but the gist of it is, she wanted to be called "Gima" (pronounced GEE-ma) and Caleb, as the first grandchild, got to officially name her.  The first time he was really talking and we asked him what her name was, he said, "Milk carton."  We asked him to repeat himself.  "Milk carton" again.  A few minutes later, he pointed at her and said "Wawa."  And that seemed like a more palatable, less cumbersome name, so it stuck.

Wawa spent her career as an elementary school teacher.  And the bulk of it as a second grade teacher.  So she gets our boys, as both a person, as a teacher, and as a Wawa.  And they adore her.

And they love going to her and Papa's home.  It is bigger, cleaner, has a bigger back yard (that a mysterious elf drops coins in from time to time), it has Papa and Wawa there, and it had three dogs.  As we don't have pets of our own, those have become the adopted dogs for our boys.

Wawa has had a hard week.  Sadly, a week ago Monday, she had to put two of her dogs to sleep.  Cookie (the black one) and Boomer (the white one).

 

My parents have long parented several older dogs that someone is letting go of for some reason or another.  Cookie, we realized shortly after they brought her home from and older woman who claimed she couldn't handle caring for her any more, had a tough life.  For instance, it took us awhile to figure out why she was so quiet.  That would be because her previous owner didn't care for the barking and had very voicebox removed.

And then there was Boomer.  He was sold to them as an older dog, too.  He had been a grand champion show dog.  And none of us, again, could really figure out why anyone would let the most docile, sweet dog, not to mention one that was "successful" go.  Until we found out he had the most intense skin issues of any dog I had ever known.  He itched so badly, constantly, that he would eat his legs down to the bone.  It was agonizing to see him at times.

But they, along with my parents' third dog, Lucy, were a good trio.  A motley crew of dogs.

Over New Year's, it became clear that Cookie was failing fast.  And I knew my mom planned to take her into the vet to be evaluated the following Monday.  We all assumed the end was near.

Last Monday, I got a text from my sister letting me know that I should call Mom after the kids went to bed.  And I knew that Cookie was gone.

The kids saw my face fall and asked what was wrong.  So I began to explain that Cookie, as they knew, had been getting very old and weak and had died that day.  Their faces fell.  And they continued to eat dinner in silence.

As we neared the end of dinner, I headed into the kitchen to start doing the dishes.  I happened to pick up my phone to see an email from my mom.  She had taken both dogs in and not only was Cookie in her last days, but so too was Boomer.  And she had made the agonizing decision to let them both go.

The shock and surprise caught me off guard and I found myself standing there with tears pouring down my face.

Noah looked up and asked, "Why are you crying Mom?"  And I said, "Oh boys, you know how I just told you about Cookie?  Well I didn't know this then but Boomer got very ill too and he also died with Cookie."

They were stunned.  And still silent.

About 30 seconds later, as I continued back at work in the kitchen I heard two slow wails rising from the dining room table.  Both boys had fallen apart and were sobbing.

I called them into the living room to each sit on one of my knees.  And I rubbed their backs and talked to them about how losing anyone is hard.  And that loving people and animals meant that it was even harder to let them go.

And Noah said, "Right, because really, we are all animals.  So it can be just as sad when an animal dies as when a person does."

Caleb agreed saying, "Yes.  We are animals, too.  Like my brother, Noah here, he is half chimpanzee."

And within seconds they were in fits of giggles mixed in with sniffles and broken by sobs.

Wawa has taken a few days to be by herself and grieve.  But yesterday, we headed over there for dinner.  And the boys hung close and read and enjoyed the attention of their Wawa.

 

 

It was just what the doctor ordered for Wawas, and Calebs and Noahs, even if they are half chimpanzee.