RIP Miss Cecily, aka Squeezlegoose

One of my favorite photos of Miss Cecily

She couldn't pick herself up from the floor. If I was able to help her onto her feet, she was at most able to take three steps before she was back on the ground again. I was helping her stand to drink water, to move around. Her eyes were still bright and alert, but the rest of her body was no longer willing to continue.  It was a hard decision, but in the end, it made sense to have her euthanized. I know, I know - for animals, the term is supposed to be "put down", but you know what? She'd become such a part of this family that I just can't use that term. My apologies to the purists.

Squeezlegoose doing the limbo under the
(supposed) anti-goose barriers for the dog beds.

Spouse said that I always doted on Miss Cecily, even when we first got her as a gosling. Something about the tilt of her eyes, her Very Small Tuft, her calm demeanor, her insistence on sleeping on the dogs' beds, always finding a way around or under any obstruction we'd put in place. How she and Godzilla were sweethearts, even though Tufted Romans are harem-minded by breed. And in the house: how she'd grunt in front of the refrigerator when she wanted greens, or would stand by the stove when she wanted her smoothie. Then how she'd tug on the hem of our shorts or pants, as if stamping her foot impatiently, while we got her food ready. And don't you dare forget to let her have her daily nap on your chest. If you missed the regular nap time, she'd stare you down with those beautiful, beady blue eyes until it felt like a laser piercing your skull. Must. Obey. The Squeezle.

Miss Cecily as a gosling, looking at Billy-Bob as if
to say "dude, you're doing it wrong..."

We're having her autopsied to see if some sense can be made of what she went through, in hopes it can help other birds in the future, and I'll be sure to post results here as well. We can't get her intact body back, but can get it back cremated, so that's what we'll do. Some have said that very few people would have gone to the lengths Spouse and I did to keep Miss Cecily going, in hopes she'd heal from this strange malady. I don't believe this makes us either heroes or fools - it's simply something we did for a beloved pet who gave so much to us. I daresay others would have done similar.

I found a bit of her goosedown on the floor today (amidst many other feathers, as she was going through her Fall molt). In time it will be put into the compost bin, like all things, even eventually our own sweet selves. For now, however, it's on my desk. I pick it up and give it a kiss now and then. Much love to you, Sensei Cecily, Guruji Goose. You taught me so much about life, illness and death. Sweet breezes and fair journeys.