swing for life

My dog Millie died today. It was awful. She couldn't get out of her basket in the morning, and she barley looked up at me when I came in the room. She was 15 years old and had been acting weirdly all week. She was such a lovable dog, but recently she had stopped greeting my children, and had just slept all day. She couldn't walk for very long, and she didn't enjoy her hourly tickle from my young daughter.I realised that it was her time to be put down when she couldn't stand this morning. I also realised I had the terrible job of breaking the news to my children. I went into the sunny garden where the children were already swinging on the swings intheir pyjamas. As soon as I came outside, by 7 year old son Liam jumped off his swing and ran towards me. "Mum! Mum!" he shouted excitedly "We've been waiting for you! Look what we've made!" He led me over to a pile of garden toys. He pointed at it and beamed, "Its an obstacle course for Millie!" he said triumphantly.As my brain frantically searched for the right words to say,my 5 year olddaughter Maddie tumbled into me. She had been swinging Millie's lead round and round and had got very dizzy. I hoisted her upright, then sat her down on the lawn in front of me. I told Liam to come and sit as well. The children fiddled with the lead as I told them that Millie wouldn't want to play today as she feels poorly. I told them that I would take her to the animal doctor soon, and that the children should stay here with their Daddy, who would be home soon. "When Millie comes back from the vet, can she play them?" asked Liam slowly. "Don't be silly" answered my daughter, clipping the lead around her brothers wrist, "She will want to be nursed back to health by me with my doctor barbie! She needs lots of bed rest!" she looked very pleased with herself as she said this, as if she was a passionateexpert on the subject. I watched my children sadly, and then tried again. "Well actually, Millie will have to have her bed rest at the vets, she can't come back here I'm afraid, its better for her at the vets." I paused, and searched my sons face for a flicker of realisation. It came. "NO!" he suddenly said loudly, standing up. "You're not going to bring her back! You're going to tell the vet to make her go to sleep! NO NO NO NO NO!" he took off then, running back into the house, still shouting 'NO!', with the dog lead still swingingfrom his wrist. Maddie looked up at me "I don't understand Mummy?" she said looking abit scared "Why is Liam angry? Why does Millie have to go to sleep? Why can't I make her better? Why can't she play? Why is she poorly? Whats wrong with her?" I picked her up, cuddled her close, and the questions stopped. I told her to go and play some more, and went to find Liam. I found him lying on the kitchen floor sobbing with his arms around the dog. The dog was still breathing, she looked at me with dull blind eyes, old age radiating from her pores. I sat on a chair, pulled my son onto my lap, looked outside and saw Maddie swinging on the swing, and began the task of explaining death to Liam. That was two hours ago. Millie is gone, the vet put her down straight away. Liam has barricaded himself in his bedroom, and my husband is trying to distract Maddie. Me? I'm convinced this is all a dream and that when I wake up and go downstairs, Millie will be fine, and the kids will be happy. Unfortunately though, the possibility of this being a dream was destroyed long ago.