When my mother died I would sit at my writing desk to write thank you notes and cry. I had a ritual; every Thursday I left work early and got lunch at The Cheese Shop. I would set lunch up on a pretty plate and pour myself a glass of red wine. On sunny days I would watch the light dance through the bare branches of the birch trees. On cloudy, rain driven days I would watch the dark brown leaves swirling desperately around. My mother died in November and I did this every Thursday through the winter.Now, I am here again eleven years later, heart heavy as a stone. A big black crow caws loudly on the lawn. I want him to go away. Today I will clean up all of our beloved Tedsey's marrow bones leaving nothing for the crow to come for. Today I will put his bowl away and his rawhide flips and his pills. This afternoon we will say goodbye, for now, and let him start his glorious life in heaven. Are we ready? No, but we know he is. He has been the light of our lives for 11 years and 3 months. I often wondered if he was the reincarnation of all the people I have loved and lost. He was more human than any dog I have ever known.
Teddy taught us about love and connection. He was so hooked into people and so, so happy. He wagged his tail to the end, literally. When we brought him to the vet for his last visit he wagged his tail for Dr. Fischer; sweet and brave to the end. There will never be another dog like our dear Tedsey. We have all been blessed; so many lessons learned from a loving, brave and happy dog. If we could all be so present, happy and loving what a world it would be.
