After All These Years....

...I am still working on it.

I think it may be a good endeavor.

It keeps me from being

too complacent.

The long road,

the journey that never ends...

 best to all, e.

Letting Go.....

....and saying goodbye.

She is the one on the left in the picture.

Her name was Cleo.

We have had many dogs over the years here...

thirty one years this summer.

We have had a beloved Boxer,

hard working Border Collies,
when we had sheep,

my youngest son's adored dog,

a treasured cat,

and even a sweet wee mouse.

They share common ground.

It is just across the fence

under cedar and fir.

Yesterday we said goodbye

at the vet clinic,

in the car.

It is a testimony to Cleo's sweetness,

her patience and goodness,

that both vets, all office workers,

lab technicians and vet assistants

were in tears.

It was oddly comforting.

 I have come to understand

that they all knew what a wonderful soul she was.

She was too young in years to go,

but renal failure can quickly

shut the doors,

close up the windows on a short life.

She knew my moods.

Was always there to take care of me.
When I broke my leg, when I cried,
she was there in my lap, kissing my face,
guarding me, always beside me.

She guarded the grandchildren

swimming in the creek,

even as a puppy.

No going out deeper than your knees the first summer!

Summers later, "Swim boys!"

"But remember I am here to take care of you."

Walking back through our pastures

she would rush back down
to count people.
Was anyone left?
"Let me be sure."
"I won't come home until all people are safe,
tucked up and accounted for."
"Look at me."
"I can sweep the cloth napkins
off of the dining room table." 
And yes, guard the kindling
for the wood stove, 
put up your bamboo knitting needles...
"I just might, just might,
make the whole mess disappear."

We were and are
blessed to have her.
I am eternally grateful.
And I am bereft.

Would that I was as poetic as Lord Byron
on the death of his Newfoundland.
best to all, e.