It’s already been a year since you’ve passed, and yet the sensation of cradling your lifeless body still rings within my mind. I think it was the first time I’ve truly experienced a body that is truly empty— the times where I’ve picked up road kill or deceased wild life that have already long gone through the stages of decomposition could not compare to a body that was still warm. I did not shed tears when we came across your limp form, I did not shed tears when I cradled your body and pushed you gently to really see if you were gone, I did not shed tears when we wrapped your body carefully in towels and placed your favourite toys on your bed, and I did not shed tears when my mother unwrapped the towels before placing you down in the ground, taking one last look before we returned you to earth. But I did weep that night mourning my decision to rob the only opportunity for my mother to be with you until your last moment. I’ll never be able to take this decision back. I slept in the same bed as my mom that night; my mother spoke to me as we laid beside each other and reminisced something along the lines of “As we were getting ready to leave and I was putting on my clothes, Angel looked at me and her erratic breathing calmed down momentarily. I took it as a sign that she was ready to go and that she was saying goodbye to me.”
I’m not sure if she made that up to make me feel better about making her go out for a fruitless errand while our dog was unknowingly experiencing her final moments.. but was it really unknowingly when I clipped a trimming of her fur the moment I noticed her strange behaviour— her small body racked with tremors as she wheezed out each shaky breath?
Today we got a cake for you. We were at the country side driving to a farm that sold eggs, and I’m not quite sure what led to the conclusion we should get a cake after that (we never got our eggs in the end either, a large truck was parked in the farm lot and a notice in 3 different languages was pinned to the door saying “NOT SELLING EGGS TODAY” and gee I wonder why.. certainly couldn’t be the comically long truck right beside the farm office) but I wont exactly complain since it is a delicious cake that we always purchase from our local grocery store. I deem it the “every celebration” cake, a simple strawberry shortcake with a strawberry preserve topping with shredded white chocolate decorating the edges of the cake. I’d even say it looks like you.. ignoring the gruesome imagery that the strawberry topping would bring, rather the furls of the shredded chocolate was very reminiscent of your curls.
We even planned to get some candles to spell out RIP on top of the cake but unsurprisingly, all that was on the candle rack were numbers and sticks. My mother joked, “It’s unsurprising since people get cakes to celebrate birthdays,” and I added, “And certainly not dead loved ones, haha.”
Maybe we ought to make it a tradition to eat something tasty on the day someone died! Though I’m certain it’s done in some culture out there, and I’m sure around here it’s common to eat foods that the deceased used to enjoy in their lifetime…. but considering you are a dog and we all can’t eat beggin’ dog bacon in your memory, I think a cake that looks adjacent to you will have to suffice. Here’s the cake in all its glory with some text tacked on to make up for the absent candles:

The plot of earth that you’ve rested in for the past year has grown from the single meagre rose stuck in the dirt that encased your body now a full flower box adorned with flowers and small statues in your memory. I think my mother did a wonderful job creating the memorial.

I’m eating the cake and drinking a cup of tea as I write this post and yes the title is intentional. Rest easy my sweet acute angle.

Lori ✦

Currently Listening to:
Ave Maria – Schubert

Feeling:
Spaced out