When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life in such a manner that when you die the world cries and you rejoice. ~Indian Saying
Darling Doggie Dallas and I took a walk the other day and stopped to chat with one of my old neighbors beneath his walnut tree.
Now, before you accuse me of being ageist, he’s going to be 98 on his next birthday, so I think “old” is an appropriate adjective, don’t you?
Anyway, as we were talking, he mentioned that he and his wife had lost Charlie over the long winter.
Charlie was their bird dog, white with tan spots, and he went everywhere with them.
He traveled in the back seat of their car snuggled atop a colorful quilt. He patrolled their back yard fence line on sunny days and, I imagine, hounded them inside their house. He was a good and loyal friend, and my neighbor was still suffering over his loss.
Enter Dallas, who was only too glad to ease the pain, sidling up to him and insisting he stroke Sheltie furs for a while.
Everybody knows how calming it is to pet a dog, how many benefits dog ownership brings. Another neighbor would swear to that. He, too, recently lost his Maltese-mix, and he and his wife can’t find a new dog fast enough.
Charlie lived to the ripe old age of 15 years; the Maltese was only 9.
My Dallas has already lived 8 years of a Sheltie’s expected lifespan of 11-15 years.
Every dog owner knows that, chances are, they’ll outlive their precious fur-kid. Law of averages and all. Still, we don’t want to think about losing our beloved friends.
Perhaps the better option is not to fret over what surely will happen, somewhere down the road, but to enjoy our pets as much as we can, for as long as we can, while we can.
Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.~From a headstone in Ireland