As far as mercy killings go, I think I really pulled out all the stops for her: I arranged for the execution to be done at my house; I lit a fire; I burned nice smelling candles—the kind that mask the stench of death—and I invited all my friends who loved Kenora almost as much as I did. But most importantly, I compiled a playlist to commemorate her life. Well... okay, maybe it didn't commemorate her life as much it did my mother's life, considering all the songs on this list were played during my mother's unfortunate departure from this earth, six months earlier. God rest her soul.
I wanted Kenora's passing to be special; as special as lethal injection could be under the given circumstances. It was the least I could do for her, considering all the joy, peace, and love she gave me in the time we were together.
I delegated the position of "Death Deejay" to Terie—the only one of us who seemed to have her shit together—for it it was important to me that Kenora took her last breath to Caledonia, a song, which, being near and dear to my mother's heart, was played incessantly while Mom was on her deathbed.
As I cradled Kenora close to my heart, Dr. Martin said, "Whenever you are ready..."
I held Kenora a while longer, whispering in her ear how much I loved her, how much she had enriched my life, and assuring her that, one day, we would be reunited.
I nodded to Terie to play the song, and then, through my snot and tears, I indicated to Dr. Martin that it was time.
I embraced Kenora—kind of like one of those mothers you see in the movies who is holding her dying child in her arms, rocking back and forth, screaming, "Noooo!"—and as Dr. Martin connected the syringe of death-serum to Kenora's saline lock, that's when things went amok. Right before she pushed the drug (let's just call it arsenic) through Kenora's vein, I heard the Celtic Women's rendition of Amazing Grace.
Now... under any other circumstance, these angelic voices could right the most troubled soul, but at this particular moment, the sound of these voices evoked an evil within me that I didn't know existed.
"NOOOOOO!!!!!!" I shouted loudly, scaring the shit out of everyone in the room, including my ailing dog, Kenora.
"Terie!!! That's not the song!!!" I shrieked, snot and spit flying everywhere, my head spinning like Linda Blair's head in the Exorcist.
"THAT! (blubber, blubber) IS... NOT!!!.... (sobbing while making that guttural sound that resembles a silent but violent hiccup)... THE...
The room fell silent as Terie fumbled to find the chosen tune, each of my friends waiting with bated breath, my vet thinking it was I who needed to be put out of my misery.
Unfortunately, the bitch (Terie, not Kenora) thrives under pressure, and it seemed like only seconds later that the peaceful words of Caledonia permeated the room. And in the comfort of this song, I leaned in close to Kenora's ear and said, "Goodbye, my love. I love you, lovebug!" And just as quickly as she entered my life, she left it.
She had passed. Peacefully. (Well, almost).
Holy shit, I'm sorry, guys... this was supposed to be a funny post—one about how Pinterest saved my life. (Kidding. Sort of.)
Fuck, I think I have A.D.D..