A year ago this morning, I was celebrating the end of your chemotherapy two days
prior and CLEAN ultrasounds! No hemagiosarcoma tumors! I knew that it could come
back any time, but I wanted you to see spring again and play in the ocean.
You were my brave princess through your treatment, and came out of chemo wanting
to go play, even though your shaved belly made you cold.
Christmas evening, you had a fatal bleed. I HATE that we couldn't end things on
our terms. I thought we had time, I thought we had beaten it back. But you spent
your last hours in a hospital, and I saw them wheeling you away as you strained
to get up and come back to me. That image haunts me. I begged to be allowed back
When I saw you next, you were so, so tired. I held you and sang to you in a
darkened room, I tried to be strong, as you were, if you knew I was upset, you'd
be worried about me.
I knew it was time and the doctor came in and helped you go. A part of my soul
went with you, it felt ripped from me. Your big fuzzy brother Aik came in and
laid next to you after you left. He has not been the same, you were his wife.
I didn't want to leave you, but it was almost midnight and your soul was running
Lucy, I've had other dogs, I've loved and do love them all. But YOU, you little
girl, you were something else. My soulmate, my heart, my comfort, my child, my
protector. My shining light in a hard world. A constant in a world of doubt.
You were MY girl. I've never met a dog who was polite to everyone else, but
Mamma was your world. I was not worthy, but you made me feel as though I was.
The answers to all that was important could always be found in your wise dark
You always knew the way home when we were walking the trails. Always, even if we
took a new direction.
You always knew if a person was a good person or not, and you tried to tell me
not to let a couple of them in to our lives. You were always right.
You couldn't stand to have me swim in the ocean, you knew it was more risky than
the lake, so you swallowed your own fear and I'd find you swimming beside me,
urging me to come in.
You made up jokes, great, wonderful jokes between us, and us alone. They were
our secret. To the rest of the world, you were stoic and independent. With just
the two of us, you were silly and vulnerable.
YOu had the most dignity of any dog I've ever known. And BODY I've ever known.
You survived, at age 2, an serious illness that nearly killed you. It killed
every other dog who'd ever had it and you went in to the medical books. The vet
said it was your iron will, and our connection, as I held you night after night
willing our souls to entwine so I could keep yours with mine.
8 years later I knew, a week before anything happened, that you were going to
leave me. I don't know how, but I did.
8 years later and 200 miles away, that same vet who saved you was suddenly
seized with thoughts of you, who she'd not seen in years. I called her to let
her know you were sick, she said she'd felt you from across the years and miles
and was not surprised to hear from me. She was part of that connection made so
many years ago.
Others commented, as they walked by us, that our connection was palpable. THere
would be your brother Aik, all goofy and waggy and kissy, you'd be sitting to
the side, dignified. Yet people who could feel these things stopped in their
tracks, pointed at YOU and said "she loves you so much."
When Dad died in April, I knew his troubled soul would be safe with you, and
that you went first to help him get to the right place. You always knew the way
God took you on His birthday for a reason, you were needed to do special work.
I try Lucy, I try every day to be worthy of your love. I've tried to live my
life in a way that honors you. I don't always succeed, but I'm not giving up
because YOU never gave up. Not on me, not on love and not on Life.
Lucy my love, run free and watch over us and our loved ones, and our friends
here. Please don't hog all the tennis balls, there are plenty to go around.
We shall be together again Lucy, I know you will find me.
All my love,