“It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence, to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words:
“And this, too, shall pass away.”
How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride! How consoling in the depths of affliction!”
Abraham Lincoln ~September 30, 1859,
Sweetie, I know that you’re hurting and what that feels like – I’ve put down six loved kitties in the last ten years, the oldest was with us 20 years – but be kind to yourself. You did well by Rummie, giving him love and a human to give his love to. It’s in their nature for dogs to want that, so you made him happy, and believe me, your pain will ease if you acknowledge that.
Comment by dick, not quite dead white guy — January 27, 2013 @ 9:59 pm
You’ll be OK, hang in there.
Sometimes you have to eat a shit sandwich, you are fortunate enough to have friends to help it go down easier.
We can feel sadness and loss only if we’re alive;
and as long as we live, there will be occasional sadness and loss;
but we’ll know it only if we’ve also known joy and love.
Grief is a mixture of dozens of self-imposed emotions which one has no control over and no way of fixing, only coping with and eventually shedding. We’re not unfeeling or callous for getting beyond it. We do what people have done for millennia, we get up one morning and recognize another day of life for the gift it is.
The beach may be lonelier without Rummy, but it’s still yours to enjoy.
Heck, ain’t a KisPer out here who wouldn’t love to be able to stroll along the beach with you, so next time you’re able to smile again out there, throw us a stick to chase.
Comment by DougM (Progophobe) — January 27, 2013 @ 11:18 pm
Bless you and keep you, and bless and keep Rumsfeld.
I’m weeping with you right now Sondra. As I just responded to the post above I began to scroll and see his head then the full pic and my mind went “Oh No …..” And it is a heart crusher. I know I went through it 2 years with Baby our black Lab. I walked her about 7 times a day over the last 2 years before she went back to God.
I fed her, carried her, cleaned her you know what I’m talking about. And I am so disabled myself that I hurt most of the time as the day wore on. But she was a love to us, mys sister Linda and I and I typed this in tears especially seeing that shot of him running I know it is going to take awhile.
And after that you still will never ever have his spirit and soul leave you. What a handsome fella too and full of love for you. Oh Sondra I am so grieving with you. But he is running on the streets of gold. Amen.
Such a sweet furry face! I am so very sorry for your loss. I went through it with my Scoobie 5 1/2 years ago. Everyone at the animal hospital told me that I did the right thing but all I could think of at the time was, “I killed my best friend”. I have two black lab mixes now who bring joy to my life but not a day goes by that I don’t think about Scoobie.
Comment by Thunderbottom — January 28, 2013 @ 5:59 am
To paraphrase Kinky Friedman, “If there is a Heaven it’s where all the animals you’ve ever had come running up to you with a smile on their faces.”
My beloved Harley is buried just outside of my gunroom window, in a well-tended grave. He lies in a casket of solid hardwood, lined with padding under blue denim, which he loved to sit on, occupied or not. It complimented his yellow-orange coat, and he knew it.
The two cats that were adopted after he passed, often sit on the sill of that window, and look outside. Many times, I see their gaze fixed on that grave, and I somehow know that his sprit is tending to them, letting them know how blessed his life was, and theirs is.
They live on with us, long, long after they’re gone from our laps.
I’m in no hurry to “go”, myself, but I’ll be glad when I do, and have my Harley again, evermore.
Somehow, I figure him and Rummy will be buds, up there.
Comment by rustbucket — January 28, 2013 @ 8:22 pm
“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don’t know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring–it was peace.” (Milan Kundera)
Comment by Edd Zachary — January 28, 2013 @ 8:59 pm