Hunter in December, 2007. Photo copyright Wings, 2007; all rights reserved.
That's our beautiful girl, gone at age 7 to veterinary malpractice.
She adopted me the moment she saw me. I drove in, she and BearGirl came running to meet the car like a pair of large fuzzy bullets, and as soon as I opened the door, she climbed in and wedged herself under my legs on the driver's floorboards. I was hers from that moment on. [BearGirl, the adult, was a little more dignified, but not by much.]
She went through so much, toward the end. Much more than her little body should ever have had to bear. Griffin was inconsolable; he mourned her for a solid year. She was, truly, a furry bundle of unconditional love in its purest form, and the hole she left in my heart will never heal.
The time will be just before 4:30 this afternoon. I'll burn a little cedar for her where her ashes are scattered. I still think I see her sometimes, and I feel her around me every day.
We love you, little girl.
She was truly beautiful as well as a loving soul. I'm not at all surprised that you feel her around you from time to time; it's because she's there, checking up on you and visiting the humans she loved. I know that some of the ones who have gone before have come similarly to me. I hear Vyonne purring in my left ear from time to time as I lie in bed at night, or feel a small presence at my left shoulder. It's definitely her. And she never does it when Ghost is there. Likewise, I feel Schatzie come to check on me from time to time; it was she, certainly not my blood family, who taught me unconditional love. I feel her presence more in the companions she sends to our home. Daanzho, my big guardian, still comes here and lays his head in my lap. Bonehead sneaks around here and there and when I laugh suddenly for no apparent reason, it's his presence in my spirit. Occasionally there is a spirit dog or two on the bed: Raven and Quinn. They come and go as they please. The one who doesn't is Katie, but maybe because in her opinion she was Bob's dog, not mine, though he certainly didn't want one. Tollers are like that, as you've seen with Bitty. When she walks on, she'll probably be back for plenty of visits.
ReplyDeleteThank you, River. You know, you'd think after five years it wouldn't turn me to a puddle, but it still does. The day it happened, Harmony, our black and white paint, was the one who kept me going. When I came back from cedaring Hunter's resting place, there was Harmony, watching every move intently. It's odd how she knows, but I know she knows.
ReplyDeleteNaw, I wouldn't think that. Bonehead does that with us to this day, and he walked on in August of 2006.
DeleteLove you, Nimisenh, you and your welcoming, nurturing spirit, so attractant to the ones who need you most.
Love you back, darlin'. Chi miigwech for always being here.
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