Thursday, February 16, 2012
Coming to Terms, With Attitude
I picked up my precious Rosie's ashes from the Vet's office the day before yesterday -- on Valentine's Day. The "Heaven's Pets" people had snipped a lock of her black and white curly tail and sealed it in a bag. (I had forgotten they do that -- I learned when we lost Wendy.) It took my breath away for a moment when I first pulled the translucent black cloth bag out of the envelope containing the Certificate of Cremation and a copy of "The Rainbow Bridge" personalized for Rosie. But, then, I pressed the little bag to my chest and felt a wave of peace pass over me. I'll have a little bit of my puppy with me forever.
Early Wednesday morning, she came to me in a dream. She saw me and pranced over to me with Red Ball in her mouth and nuzzled my hand! I could feel it as plainly as I feel my fingertips on the keyboard right now.
We did the right thing by letting her go.
Someday I'll post the limerick I wrote for her when she was a puppy. My children thought I was nuts. (Still do.)
So, I think I'll try to remember her like she was in the picture above, when she had spunk to spare.
And, Pepper told me that if I get to missing her too much, he'll walk around in circles on the bed, then fall off, and wipe his face on my clothes. I may take him up on his offer just to watch it.
But now, so as not to be a totally maudlin Debbie Downer, I'll share the new philosophy that I've recently adopted -- kind of Moogie's passive-aggressive version of GOML*:
Sorry. Have a lovely day!
*Get Off My Lawn