The adoption

by Ron James

We had been married for five years, but no signs of any children. All the usual tests had been made and everything seemed to be working properly, but still no luck.

We sat down one night to discuss it and decided that it was time to explore the possibility of adoption. Should we go for a youngster, or maybe a little older? We agreed on a youngster.

After quite a while and thorough investigations we were offered an eight week old, one of triplets. There was some doubt as to who the father was, and they couldn’t stay with the mother.

We thought he was beautiful and adored him from the moment he arrived. Everyone said how cute he was, and what lovely eyes he had.

As he grew I would take him out for little walks, and as he got older he and I would go on walks into the countryside, something that was one of the highlights of his life, and mine as well. Just like a true father and son relationship should be.

When he was nine years old he started to get health problems. At first it was put down to diet, so we changed his food as we were instructed, but it didn’t seem to do the trick, in fact, he got worse. We took him to expensive private specialists, all we cared about was his wellbeing. Nothing else mattered.

One day after a long consultation we were given the bad news that he had a serious health condition and that he did not have long to live, although we were assured he was not in any pain. We took him home and cared for him until he passed away in his sleep a few weeks later.

We were inconsolable, and both of us had to take time off of work. Friends were very kind and sympathetic, except one. We were at a get together one evening and I overheard one say to another something that hurt me so very deeply, ‘I don’t understand why they should be so upset, after all, it was just a dog’.