Last night one of our rescue dogs passed away suddenly. Major was an old timer with a sweet soul. He was a GOOD boy. He could hit a ball right back to you with his nose. He was intelligent, but goofy when he wanted to be. I only had a very short time with him, but I wish I had more.
His passing left me tossing and turning all night long. He reminded me of all the others that have been lost. I cried for them, for their foster families that cared and nurtured them, and for each beautiful soul that was abandoned by the only family they’ve ever known.
Major reminded me that I had been part of a wonderful cause, a unit of women bound and determined to save lives and not allow these dogs to die in the shelter, but in someone’s arms who guided them to a better place where there was no pain. I will always be involved in rescue in some form or fashion, and that is something I will take with me when it is my time.
Major made me cry for the inevitable. I wanted seniors, and here they are, living and thriving in my home. Some not so much, though. I know their days are numbered. I know that day will come, and I know it will have to be me that does it. My mind knows, but my heart looks the other way, because the thought hurts too much.
How do you keep moving forward when you lose your family dog/cat? How do you walk by their beds and bowls and toys? How do you stop crying, when you could swear you heard them bark or whine, or their steps in the hall? How do you fill that emptiness after they are gone?
I asked my friend, why can’t dogs live as long as we do? Her answer has resonated with me in the most comforting manner.
“Because they will become bitter in life. They teach us how to love and not to judge”. Rachel Cameron Bell
*Some of the dogs that have been lost are above* #Rest In Peace