my red boy, my hero, my love
Jake
I know that there may be some of you who read this blog that don't really understand why nearly 6 months later my grief for this dog still looms so large. But then, you didn't know him. Larger than life, he was goofy and busy and kind and gentle. He kept me hopping, always, with his constant hey there what ya doing ? can I help ? can I have some of that ? He followed me everywhere, confidently and calmly, always needing and wanting to be in the centre of everything. He was high, high maintenance and only in the most perfect and wonderful way - with a constant and enormous zest for life. He loved me and I adored him. He was my anchor and I miss him.
They say every dark cloud has a silver lining and I guess mine would be realizing how lucky I am to have known such a dog, to have shared my life and my home for over 12 years with such an incredible spirit and to know that he lived a happy, long and healthy life filled with much stick fetching and retriever adventures. His raison d'etre. Smile.
I had lunch with a friend this week and it was so wonderful to speak out loud and honestly about this big heartache that just doesn't go away. The heartache that I must keep tucked away inside, the sadness that most often is only allowed out when we're alone. Winnie knows this sadness too. When we're all safe and sound and tucked away in our old brick house or driving in the car or walking alone through just cut pastures ... then we can let it out. And it has to come out ... all of it. That's what grief is ... it's feeling sorrow and sadness and loss and love.
Big huge love.
I love ya Noodle.
and my best girlfriend ... sweet cheeks, Miss Winnie Dixon
Last night one of our big cream colored cushions was on the floor and out of the corner of my eye, I thought for a minute it was Ralphy and it made me cry.
ReplyDeleteIt has been 8 years for me and sometimes I still ache for my sweet Ambersan. Oh, how I know that pain.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for your sweet commiseration comments Willow and Mary D. There is something so remarkable about having known and felt love so good and pure and big.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure that there is a part of me that will never be completely over him. And really why would I ever want that ?
Totally understandable, Susan. Of course you'll never be over Jake, he's part of you. People who don't understand or are dismissive of your feelings have never loved that way.
ReplyDeleteHey Mary D. I meant to say Ambersan is a lovely name ... much like Ampersand, the ever beautiful "and" sign ...
ReplyDeleteI understand Susan. The most beautiful male black cat shared our lives for many many years, and I loved the incredibly gentle and sweet nature of that shelter cat.I missed him terribly when he died. He was my confidante. I think it is an animal's giving nature,loyalty and lack of betrayal,the inability to wound with words, that sees us tuck our loved creatures into a special place in our hearts.Huge love means huge hurt. It is, as you well know, the price we pay. I respect that sacred space in yourself and others, and wish you wellness, warmth and healing.
ReplyDeleteOH how we do understand. A part of you will never get over the loss. But the pain will dull and but he will always stay with you. You will always hold him tighly in heart and thought.
ReplyDeleteI think that is part of it...their love is so pure, so unconditional.
I still find myself dreaming about our doxie Mandy and our fist kitty, Hannah. I miss them still and Hannah has been gone for 7 years, Mandy for 10.
Their ohotos are here and I say good morning and good night to them each day.
I wish you peace of spirit with this and the easing of your pain.
Those who can not understand have also never been blessed to have this great joy in their lives.
It is truly one of the most precious gifts.
Warm hugs to you Susan.
Love,
Sue
I'm so glad you gave these wonderful dogs such a home of love. Boy, we need more of that in this world.
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