Sarah Silverman is one of those underrated celebrities, I think. She’s brave and compassionate and hilarious and intelligent, but she keeps people at enough of a distance that they really only see the hilarious part, and a lot of the time they confuse it with her being an asshole.
But she’s really a wonderful person, when you actually pay attention. (Says a human being who has only observed her from my internet perch, and never actually met her in person.) From the thoughtful way she considered adoption to her ongoing, spirited crusade for women’s rights, she uses humor to initiate just the kinds of conversations that are necessary for social change.
But even knowing how eloquent and expressive she can be, I wasn’t prepared for her written tribute to her dog, Duck, whom she just recently had to put down at about nineteen years of age. We didn’t realize Sarah had a rescue dog, or we would’ve included her in our Celebrities Who Own Adorable Rescue Dogs post, but nothing I would’ve written could ever compare to Sarah’s own eulogy for Duck, which she posted on her WhoSay.
Please read it — it’s amazing and touching, and if it doesn’t make you cry, then you and I have nothing in common.
“Duck ‘Doug’ Silverman came into my life about 14 years ago. He was picked up by the State running through South Central with no collar, tags or chip. Nobody claimed or adopted him so a no-kill shelter took him in. That’s where I found him — at that shelter, in Van Nuys. Since then we have slept most every night together (and many lazy afternoons.) When we first met, the vet approximated his age at 5½ so I’d say he was about 19 as of yesterday, September 3, 2013.
He was a happy dog, though serene. And stoic. And he loved love.
Over the past few years he became blind, deaf, and arthritic. But with a great vet, good meds, and a first rate seeing-eye person named me, he truly seemed comfortable.
Recently, however, he stopped eating or drinking. He was skin and bones and so weak. I couldn’t figure out this hunger strike. Duck had never been political before. And then, over the weekend, I knew. It was time to let him go.
My boyfriend Kyle flew in late last night and took the day off from work to be with us. We laid in bed and massaged his tiny body, as we love to do – hearing his little “I’m in heaven” breaths.
The doctor came and Kyle, my sister, Laura and I laid on the bed. I held him close – in our usual spoon position and stroked him. I told him how loved he was, and thanked him for giving me such happiness and for his unwavering companionship and love. The doctor gave him a shot and he fell asleep, and then another that was basically an overdose of sleeping meds. I held him and kissed him and whispered to him well passed his passing. I picked him up and his body was limp – you don’t think about the head – it just falls. I held him so tight. And then finally, when his body lost its heat, and I could sense the doctor thinking about the imminent rush hour traffic, I handed him over.
My longest relationship.
My only experience of maternal love.
My constant companion.
My best friend.
Sending thoughts to you and Duck, Sarah. You’re a credit to dog owners and human beings everywhere.