Some of our greatest treasures we place in museums; others we take for walks. — APlaceToLoveDogs
Mama is working on her novel, so she gave me permission to commandeer her blog again.
Permission — hah!
The Gulfport home doesn’t have a fenced back yard and sits on a body of water. Mama says there’s an ally-gator in it.
I don’t know what an ally-gator is, but Mama says it eats dogs. Yikes!
So Mama and I took lots of walkies, especially on warm, sunny days.
One of the places we frequented was a cemetery.
It’s a HUGE place with lots of trees, grass, flowers, and stone.
Mama says it’s where people go before they cross the Rainbow Bridge.
I don’t know why they go there, but it seems like a peaceful place.
There’s no shouting, no arguing, no meanness.
There are religious statues and benches in case you get tired.
Some of the people have been there a long time. Their headstones are weathered, and the flower-holders are empty. I guess they didn’t leave anybody behind willing, or able, to fill them.
Others are new occupants. You can tell by their polished markers, fresh flowers, and the turned over dirt where they were planted.
Some are outside under the trees. Others are in a stuffy building Mama calls a mausoleum.
Families leave all sorts of things at the graves of their loved ones — Mardi Gras beads, stuffed animals, angel statuettes, photos, wind chimes, and American Flags. Some even have stone doggins or kitties.
Mama has four spots she stops at when we walk there. Two belong to Auntie M and her husband; one belongs to Mama’s godfather.
The fourth belongs to Pa-Pa (Mama’s daddy).
Now you might think “visiting” her relatives would make Mama sad.
On the contrary.
She touches their names, says a few prayers, and leaves comforted.
I like that.
I like to think all Mama’s relatives have reunited with their pets who preceded them to the Rainbow Bridge.
And none of them are in pain any more.
If you have a dog, do you travel to a special place on your walkies? Do share!
What a BEAUTIFUL post, Dallas! It brought tears to my eyes.
And please tell Mama that I agree with her….
“On the contrary.
She touches their names, says a few prayers, and leaves comforted.”
I do the same thing. In fact, I even do that whenever I visit a cemetery and don’t know anyone who has passed on. I touch their names, say a prayer, and leave comforted. I find cemeteries a place of great peace.
I used to have a cat (Jerry) who passed away about 10 years ago. And I will still walked by the garden that I buried him in, and thank him for the love he shared for the 19 years he was in my life.
Again, beautiful post, Dallas!
You, too, Mr. Ron? Mama will be glad to hear she’s not the only one who finds cemeteries peaceful, calming places.
Poor Jerry. You must’ve taken especially good care of him — he was a lucky cat! — for I’ve never heard of a kitty living that long! Don’t worry, he’s waiting at the Rainbow Bridge, too, and will run to meet you when he sees you (w-a-a-a-a-y into the future!)
Happy Valentine’s Day, sir!
We love visiting cemeteries. A resting place filled with history. We have a long walk and a short walk that pretty much follows the same city blocks but it is interesting to see how the weather and seasons change those walks.
Miss Katybeth, Mama will be tickled that she’s in such good company of folks who enjoy cemeteries. I think she was a tad upset that I gave away her secret, but hey, I don’t think it’s weird. I like those long walkies! Do you by any chance take Rascal along??
So good of you to take care of the blog so mommy can work, Dallas!
She’s stuck in a difficult spot, Miss Suzi, and she needed my help. Actually, what she needs is to make an outline. I keep telling her that, but she’s balking! She’s blaming her “stuck-ness” on Mercury Retrograde or some such nonsense!
Nice post, Dallas! I’m glad she found comfort in the cemetery. (I’m the opposite. I don’t go because I find it too depressing and emotional. Too hard to see the engraved names of loved ones on headstones.)
That’s certainly understandable, Miss Janna. I used to balk at going in the mausoleum building — because of its stuffy smell — but Mama insists, so I go with her. She doesn’t tarry too long, though, and sometimes she lets me sniff the flowers (mostly, they’re fake and don’t carry much scent!)
Dallas, you are sounding rather poetic and profound. How nice that your mama gets to take you to this special place. How nice that she has you to care for her. You’re a good dog, Dallas, a very good dog.
Aw, shucks, Miss Monica — you’ve got me blushing. And that’s no easy feat, what with all this fur on my cheeks, ha! Mama tells me at least once a day what a good boy I am; nice you agree with her!
Always love hearing from Dallas. Also loved picturing you touching the gravestones of loved ones and connecting with your ancestors. But best of all, excited to hear that you are working on a novel!
Mama thanks you for the encouragement, Miss Pat! None of her “kinfolks” are buried in Central Illinois, so we don’t visit many cemeteries at home; it’s kind of a nice change of pace to connect with them once in a while.