My desire to post has flagged this week.
Wednesday and Thursday were windy and unseasonably warm; the high both days as 31. Shades mostly drawn, windows open only an inch or two to keep the worst of the heat out, yet let some fresh air in – we won’t put the a/c in the window yet. Today’s high was 9 and the windows were closed to keep the warmth in.
This spring has definitely been an interesting one.
A tree stands starkly against a brilliant blue background.
My journey with Stella has ended – in one way.
I prefer to not share all of the details of how and why. They are between me and Faye, Stella, our vet, and the Knower of All Things. It’s enough to say we are blessed with a vet who came to our home and helped us let go, with Stella’s head in my lap.
I adopted her over 13 years ago, discovered a new and deep sense of purpose. We learned from and trained one another. We prospered through the years of Avis and Moonpie becoming senior dogizens, being adopted by Corndog. We met Faye and I gained another new purpose. Someone to love and be loved by.
We let go of Moonpie, Avis, Corndog, and gained a new four footed companion – Achilles.
We moved to a new life, a new country, met new dogs – Rex, Kendal, BoJo, fosters Charlie and Lucy – and let go of them. Achilles is still here. We met yet another foster, Fitzi, and he has stuck. He’s the right dog at the right time.
I hope that Stella had a full life. Some people might have done more to keep her here longer. I believe it’s better to let go a day too soon, while she still had dignity, than a day too late.
I’m sad – for me and for Faye. Among the bargains I made when adopting her (that anyone makes when they adopt a dog or cat) was that I’d probably outlive her.
My sadness is tempered by gratitude for having years together, learning from and about one another. Deep gratitude to the family who trusted me enough to let me adopt her.
I don’t believe in the Rainbow Bridge. This isn’t a criticism of those who do believe, only a statement that I don’t believe. I don’t believe that Stella or any (every) dog I’ve owned will rush to greet me at the Bridge. She has too much good stuff to do, to spend eternity at my side. She’s too busy power-chasing squirrels and keeping them honest. There are too many rivers, lakes, and ponds for a duck wearing a dog suit to swim in. And that’s fine.
A journey ends, a journey begins. Stella is no longer here yet she is here – in my memory, head, heart, and soul. So she lives on.
Close focus, motion, and shutter speed result in the image of an American Goldfinch painted in bold colour and softened detail.
A pine trees’ limbs bend in a brisk breeze, yet do not break. It seems best to bend, not break, when lifes’ breezes blow.
Senior dog Stella dozes in the last bit of a sunbeam.
Achilles rests after a long walk and playing with Fitzi.
Back on Thursday.
A lattice of Manitoba maple patterns my view overhead.
previouslytexan 