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第40章 一起走过的日子 (13)

时间差不多了,邦妮把卡西带进了宠物临终安抚室。那是由参与“生活变化”项目的医护人员安排的,这里更适合动物无痛苦地死去,并更能给宠物主人以抚慰。

邦妮坐在地板的软垫上,卡西就躺在她的旁边。邦妮开始抚摸她,和她说话。“噢,我的女儿,你就在妈妈身边。一切都会好起来的。”

实行安乐死的时刻到了。卡西的头枕着邦妮的肚子,她睡得安详而惬意。布什医生轻声问道:“我们现在可以开始吗?”邦妮点了点头,表示同意。

“但在开始前,”她低声说道,“我想先做个祷告。”

她伸出双手来拉我们的手,我们也都伸出手来,相互握着。邦妮站在这群严肃的人中间,开始轻声祷告:“仁慈的上帝,感谢您让这么一只漂亮的狗陪我度过了过去的14年。我知道她是您赐予我的礼物。今天对于我来说是最为痛苦的一天,因为我知道我该把她归还给主的时刻到了。另外,感谢亲爱的主,感谢您把这位女士带给我,是她给予了我无穷的力量和无尽的帮助。这一切都应归功于您,仁慈的主。阿门。”

大家都流着泪,齐声说着“阿门”,相互握紧双手,对这适时的举措表示赞成和支持。

卡西仍然安详地睡在主人的肚子上。医生给她注射了致命的一针。卡西没有醒来,一直静静地躺在那里,只是缓缓地进入了另一个世界。正如我们所预想的那样,整个过程迅速而平静,没有丝毫的痛苦。卡西死后,我立即用胶泥做了个她前爪的泥印送给邦妮,她慢慢地将它举起来,贴在脸上。我们都静静地坐着,最后还是邦妮打破了沉默,她说:“如果说我丈夫不得不死的话,我也希望他以这种方式死去。”

6个星期后,我收到了邦妮的一封信。她把卡西的尸骨与汉克的撒在了同一座山上,她的两个最要好的朋友汉克和卡西再次相逢了。她还在信中说,卡西的死,尤其是她死的方式,让她对汉克的死有了新的诠释。

“卡西的死是我与汉克‘相见’的一座桥梁,”邦妮写道,“通过卡西的死,我要让汉克知道,如果当初他离开人世时,我有选择的机会,我也会有这个勇气,陪他到生命的最后一刻。我要汉克知道这一点,只是我当时没有找到一种适合的方式,而卡西以自己的死为代价,向我提供了这种方式。我认为这是卡西死去的原因之所在,她死的意义就在于此。无论如何,卡西知道她会将我们重新连接在一起,使我们的心灵紧紧相连。”

8个月后,邦妮再次从俄怀明州来到我们医院。这次,她带了一只健康的小狗克莱德——一只9个月大的活泼可爱的混种小猎狗。邦妮又开始了她全新的生活。

葡萄牙水犬【Portuguese Water Dog】

永远代表着力量、精力和完美,它是船与船之间的信使。

产 地:葡萄牙

概 述:葡萄牙水犬体型中等、粗壮,是力与美的完美结合。它们英勇顽强、勇敢而耐疲劳,异常聪明,对主人非常忠诚,不具有攻击性,是出色的游泳健将,能帮助主人在水中或陆地工作,同时还是忠实的伴侣和机警的守卫。

wrestle [' resl] v. 摔角;格斗

The boy wrestled with his brother.

男孩和他的哥哥扭打起来。

mutual [' mju:tjul] adj. 共同的;相互的

It should be a mutual relationship.

这应该是一个互相的关系。

crawl [kr:l] v. 爬行

The baby often crawls on all fours.

婴儿经常匍匐而行。

soothe [su:餧 v. 缓和;使……安静;安慰

He smeared some balm on his wound to soothe the pain.

他在伤口上涂了些药膏来止痛。

她有一双能够立即吸引我的炯炯有神的淡蓝色眼睛。

她深爱的汉克悬挂在一棵高高的白杨树枝上,生命已经终结。

他们相敬如宾,互相关心爱护,共享生活的喜悦与悲伤。

She looked comfortable, very much at ease.

at ease:舒适(自由自在;稍息)

... all squeezing one another' s hands in support of the rightfulness of the moment.

in support of:维护(支持;拥护)

我的宠物情结

Of Dogs and Men

佚名 / Anonymous

The way I see it dogs had this big meeting. Oh maybe 20 000 years ago. A huge meeting—an international convention with delegates from everywhere. And that' s when they decided that humans were the up and coming species and dogs were going to throw their lot in with them. The decision was obviously not unanimous. The wolves and dingoes walked out in protest.

Cats had an even more negative reaction. When they heard the news they called their own meeting—in Paris of course—to denounce canine subservience to the human hyper-power. Their manifesto—La Condition Féline—can still be found in provincial bookstores. Cats, it must be said, have not done badly. Using guile and seduction they managed to get humans to feed them thus preserving their superciliousness without going hungry. A neat trick. Dogs being guileless signed and delivered. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

I must admit that I' ve been slow to warm to dogs. I grew up in a non-pet friendly home. Dogs do not figure prominently in our households. My father was not very high on pets. He wasn' t hostile. He just saw them as superfluous an encumbrance.

My parents did allow a hint of zoological indulgence. I had a pet turtle. My brother had a parakeet. Both came to unfortunate ends. My turtle fell behind a radiator and was not discovered until too late. And the parakeet God bless him flew out a window once never to be seen again. After such displays of stewardship we dared not ask for a dog.

My introduction to the wonder of dogs came from my wife Robyn. She' s Australian. And Australia as lovingly recounted in Bill Bryson' s In a Sunburned Country. In a place, you cherish niceness in the animal kingdom. And they don' t come nicer than dogs.

Robyn started us off slowly. She got us a Border collie Hugo when our son was about 6. She knew that would appeal to me because the Border collie is the smartest species on the planet. Hugo could play outfield in our backyard baseball games: do flawless front door sentry duty, and play psychic weathermen announcing with a wail every coming thunderstorm.

When our son Daniel turned 10 he wanted a dog of his own. I was against it using arguments borrowed from seminars on nuclear nonproliferation. It was hopeless. One giant" Please Dad'' and I caved completely. Robyn went out to Winchester Virginia found a litter of black Labs and brought home Chester.

Chester is what psychiatrists mean when they talk about unconditional love. Unbridled is more like it. Come into our house and he was so happy to see you he would knock you over. Deliverymen learned to leave things at the front door.

In some respects—Ph.D. potential for example—I don' t make any great claims for Chester. When I would arrive home I fully expected to find Hugo reading the newspaper. Not Chester. Chester would try to make his way through a narrow sliding door find himself stuck halfway and then look at me with total and quite genuine puzzlement. I don' t think he ever got to understand that the rear part of him was actually attached to the front.

But it was Chester who dispensed affection as unreflectively as he breathed who got me thinking about this long ago pact between humans and dogs. Cat lovers and the pet averse will just roll their eyes at such dog ophilia. I can' t help it. Chester was always at your foot or your hand waiting to be petted and stroked played with and talked to. His beautiful blocky head his wonderful overgrown puppy' s body his baritone bark filled every corner of house and heart.

Then last month at the tender age of 8 he died quite suddenly. The long slobbering slothful decline we had been looking forward to was not to be. When told the news a young friend who was a regular victim of Chester' s lunging love bombs said mournfully, "He was the sweetest creature I ever saw. He' s the only dog I ever saw kiss a cat" .