Sarah Silverman is known for being a brash, crude comedian, but there’s a loving side, too, which she recently demonstrated when she wrote a loving obituary for the 14-year relationship she had with her recently deceased dog, Duck.
“Duck ‘Doug’ Silverman came into my life about 14 years ago,” she wrote on her WhoSay blog Wednesday. “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.”
She fell in love with the little dog and brought him home.
“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.”
She said Duck was a dog who “loved love.” As he got older, he became “blind, deaf and arthritic.” But that never lessened her love for him, and she was dedicated to being his “seeing-eye person.”
“Recently, however, he stopped eating or drinking,” she recalled. “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.