Today, I am thankful for Daisy.
In moments of joy, all of us wished we possessed a tail we could wag.
You think dogs will not be in heaven?
I tell you, they will be there long before any of us.
~Robert Louis Stevenson
S and T ran into Ric and Audrey (the mastiff) this evening. Ric gave S the sad news: Daisy, one of Mark's dogs, had died.
Daisy, a golden Retriever, suffered from many maladies including cancer. She was only 10 (same age as T) but looked years older. I think she knew that she could not survive another cold and snowy Colorado winter. Not with severe arthritis. Not with the cancer.
I searched my archives for a photo of Daisy but couldn't find one.
So, imagine a perfect September morning. See the faithful and loyal golden retriever trudging along the dirt path adjacent to the culvert. Her reddish coat is soft and feathery; her face and muzzle, sporting a white beard. Her droopy, weary eyes brighten immediately when her dad calls her name.
She lingers near the overgrown field, inspecting a weed, sniffing a large rock. She walks at her own pace, unconcerned about the others who are many yards ahead of her now. The warm sun feels quite lovely this morning. The cool breeze carries a tantalizing scent - maybe a wild bunny or a pesky ground squirrel hiding in the scrub oak.
Despite her ailments, she insists on accompanying her dad and brother (a black Lab mix) for a lap or two around the park. Twice a day, in fact. Morning and dusk.
She pauses for a minute, as if to take it all in - the glorious sunshine, the cloudless blue sky, the nearby meadow and its bouquets of late summer wildflowers, the familiar sidewalk, the expanse of park lawn, the good sniffs, the cows grazing on the hillside, the saplings struggling to grow near the playground, the messy muddy spots near the softball field, her dad and brother enjoying the exercise ... one last time before the day fades for good, leaving only stars, moonlight and night sky.
For this blessing, I am grateful.