Dear Julie,
I am just so sorry to learn of our precious Jackson's passing. He had such a wonderful life with you, one he could not have had with anyone else I am positive. You gave him the safe place he needed and a love that will last thru eternity. My beloved Squirt has been gone almost 7 years and at times I still go thru those terrible "what ifs", questioning nearly everything I did and didn't do over her 16 years and more times than not finding plenty to feel guilty about even tho in my heart of hearts I know it's not deserved. Those thoughts and times are part and parcel of grief and for me they ebb and flow always. Please don't let those thoughts get the better of you either; you deserve that no more than I. Jackson knows you did all you could for him and he left this life carrying the love and security you gave him in his heart. One day you will see him again, I firmly believe this, and when that day comes the two of you will never again be parted.
Please know we are here anytime you need to talk....we do understand.
My deepest sympathies,
Leslie
TAKE JOY IN.....OLD DOGS
Their joys are simple. A soft bed. A scrap fallen from the table that the younger dogs missed. The memory of a treed squirrel. A stormless night.
White whiskered faces and legs crooked as question marks.
Old Dogs…their sweet Buddha bellies hang over crossed legs as they fall asleep in a coveted patch of sun. Dreaming of out-racing their shadows down long, shady lanes.
Once they danced by your side. The very definition of joy unleashed. A perfect poem caught in shining eyes and wagging tails. They have followed you faithfully for years. And would plunge into fires, untamed wildernesses, raging waters if you asked.
Now, they struggle to catch up. Their pace slow but their hearts still valiant.
Their cloudy eyes are starting to dim and go distant, tuning in to some invisible world. Just beyond your reach.
Don't go you say, as you scratch the tender part between their ears. Stay longer. I can't imagine a world without your fur pressed close to my cheek. There are still so many roads we haven't explored.
And they look up at you with a wisdom that just slays you.
Their backs are bent, not from the weight of years, but from the invisible wings they are growing
That will soon take them to a place where once more they are warriors of speed
Drunk with the sights and scents of a thousand meadows.
Able to leap high enough to touch the wing of the tiniest butterfly.
A place where they will now wait for you to catch up.
by Donna Swajeski