Her heart stopped. And my heart broke.
“Is she gone?” I asked.
“Yes,” the doctor said with tears cascading over her pale cheeks to drip from her chin.
I threw myself over her soft body like I had seen women of the Middle East do in the midst of bombings, while mourning their dead children.
I wailed like them for our little girl, Katie Scarlett. Only ten years old.
I kissed her head and said, “Good-bye my little girl.” I thought I might not be able to stop sobbing. My adult daughter and my husband moved back to let me hold her close one last time.
I’ve seen death up close before. But, for some reason, this was different.
I asked the doctor, “What happens now?”
She said her body would be picked up and her ashes should be available for us to pick up by the end of the week.
I cannot reconcile myself to this loss. There are so many holes in my life now. Our beautiful Irish girl was gone from us. Our beloved Soft-coated Wheaten Terrier, was not coming home.