Sweet Shadow.
Wednesday, September 3rd, only 2 days before she died.
She looked like a puppy her whole life.
It is actually one of her breed characteristics - to be puppy-like forever.
(The last day both girls were able to walk Shadow to the bus stop, 2nd day of school.)
I wrote so much of this when Velvet died, and posted so many pictures (actually, I think I will make a separate post for most of the pictures), I will probably repeat myself a little here. But that's okay, because Shadow and Velvet were truly inseparable while they were here together. I'm amazed Shadow lasted nearly a whole year without Velvet. We thought for sure she would die of a broken heart after Velvet was gone. I was preparing myself for a "where the red fern grows" scenario, but she did rebound, and gave us another year of happiness with her.
I will start from the beginning.
It was the very last day of school, June 2, 2000. I had just finished my 3rd year of teaching at Olympus High. It had been a brutal year at school for me, and I was so happy to have it over with! I distinctly remember skipping out of school to my car, with nothing ahead but summer bliss. It was early enough in the afternoon that David was still at school, so I had a few hours to myself. I wanted to do something fun and exciting and free! Instead of turning right out of the parking lot to go home, I turned left thinking I'd eventually run into something to do in Holladay.
As I was driving near the mall, I saw a "Best Friends Animal Sanctuary" van pull into the parking lot and noticed they had a sign out that they were doing an adoption event. We had had Velvet dog for a little over a year. She had so much separation anxiety when we were at school and work - we had talked a lot about getting her a friend. We loved the Border Collie in her, so we said if we ever found a female border collie pup to rescue, we'd do it. It would be even better if we could find another border collie/lab mix, just like Velvet. I had NO intention of getting a dog that day, especially without David, but it's always fun to look at puppies, right?
As I walked up and down the cages, I came up to one with 4 puppies in it. They were all black and named after the Dukes of Hazzard: Luke, Duke, Bo, and DAISY (just one female.) The sign on the cage said "8 weeks old. border collie/lab mix." I don't know how serendipity gets more real than that, but here was my female border/collie lab mix pup! Of course, they were adorable to boot.
I asked to see the female. She was so sweet and mellow and gentle. I held her on the bench in the mall for a few minutes and called David. "What would you think about getting a puppy today?" He pretty much said that obviously his opinion didn't matter at this point, because, obviously, I already had the puppy in my lap, and had made up my mind. Sure. Go ahead. Can't wait to meet her. She better not chew like Velvet!
When we got Velvet, David had said he always wanted a dog named Shadow, but it didn't fit Velvet. I tried it on Daisy, and sure enough, she was Shadow. I was in love from minute one. And, she was either born to have the name, or adopted it quickly.
Somehow, I do not have a picture of the day we brought her home.
She was probably 10-12 weeks old in this photo.
Already - Velvet's Shadow
When at home, Shadow followed me from room to room, all day long. If I was in the shower, she was on the bathroom mat in front of the shower. If I was getting dressed, she was in the closet. If I was making dinner, she was on the mat in front of the stove. If I went to the office to check my e-mail real quick, she was under the desk before I could sit down. If we were eating dinner, she was always under the table. Not to beg for scraps, but to lay on our feet and snuggle. When we lived in Stow, Velvet used to take off from the house for her own personal hikes. She would scare me to death and wouldn't come back for hours. Shadow could have gone with her at any point, or gone on her own hike. Despite not having a fenced yard, Shadow never left eyesight of our property. If I took the kids to the bus stop, she either came with us, or was sitting exactly next to the door when I came back in, no matter where she had been in the house when we went out the door. The dogs had always either slept in our bed or next to our bed. At one point for Velvet it got hard for her to get up the stairs, so she relegated herself to the main floor and didn't come up at bedtime anymore. Not Shadow. No matter how hard it was to get up the stairs, she either struggled through it, or insisted that you carry her up. She always slept in our bedroom. Even if she fell asleep downstairs, she would get up in the middle of the night and come up. Today, this is what is killing me. I notice that she is gone, every second of the day, because she was always right next to me - for 14.5 years.
When we went on walks, she NEVER got ahead of me or Velvet. I did take her to puppy kindergarten that first summer to teach her obedience skills. She never pulled on the leash like Velvet - always walked by my side. If someone else had her leash and I was behind or Velvet was behind, she would never let herself get more than a couple steps in front of either of us. If the person ahead tried to get her to move ahead with them, she would sit down in place and wait for Velvet or me or both of us to catch up. Always. She was the most fiercely loyal being I have ever known.
Shadow was so tiny when we got her. She used to sleep on my shoulder next to my neck in bed. She would sit on my shoulder or my lap in the car. Slowly as she grew bigger, she ended up taking over my whole pillow in bed, and eventually would sit on the console in the car next to me, while Velvet stuck her head out of a window. She was too little to run with Velvet so she would grab onto Velvet's collar and hang there while Velvet ran. As she got older, she never got over the habit, and would always grab Velvet's collar and run alongside when running back to us from fetching the ball.
Shadow is the most gentle creature I have ever met. If you know me well, you know how many creatures are in that catalog. If you gave her a treat, she would gently take it from your fingers with her lips, never her teeth. She was endlessly patient with the kids. She reminded me so much of the Nana dog in Peter Pan. When the kids were babies, they could climb all over her, pull her hair, step on her, drop things on her... she never flinched. She never made a peep. One memory that is ingrained in my mind is when Grace was riding her trike one day in our driveway. Shadow was laying flat in the middle of the driveway on her side with her tail out. Grace ran over her tail with all 3 wheels of her trike. Shadow didn't move a muscle, not even to glance over to see what had hurt her tail. She just somehow knew that Grace didn't mean to, and that was all she needed. People have been commenting on my Facebook post about what a gentle dog she was and how even if they were afraid of dogs, they weren't afraid of Shadow. She allowed everyone who came near her to feel at ease and offered her sweet-scruffy-doggie-self to them. The kids at the bus stop all loved to pet her so much. She loved to sniff people, but not like other dogs. Instead of violating your behind with a sniff, she would come to your face and put her nose millimeters away from your cheek and softly sniff all over your face, but never touch you. She never licked anyone. People were always thrown off by this. They were always afraid she would lick their faces, but she never did, once. She especially liked to sniff women's faces who were wearing make-up. She used to sniff our neighbor, Rolinda Guenther's face, for minutes at a time. (Rolinda wore a lot of make up and lotions.)
We were grateful she didn't lick our faces, because, well, she did have one disgusting habit - she loved to eat Velvet's poop! Thanks for never sharing that with us, Shadow! Okay, she had one other disgusting habit... the farting. Oh my goodness, this dog could blow you away with her farts. We would just be sitting there watching a movie and all of a sudden need an oxygen tank. She would sometimes have loud farts too. She did not care or think that it was un-lady-like. She did not care if you had company over or if she was at someone else's house. I remember once, we went to Randy's cabin with Randy and Melissa when Grace was a baby. Shadow tooted in that cabin so bad all night that it smelled like something died in there. Our dear friends, the Doty's in Stow, used to tend our dogs when we would go on trips. Shadow especially loved Linda, who doted on her and used to hold her and stroke her during thunderstorms. The Doty's used to invite us to the Cape with them and they always had a basket of gifts for us when we arrived. One summer, a book was in our basket titled "Walter, the Farting Dog." It was about a super-lovable dog with only one flaw... his insanely stinky toots. At that point, we knew that Shadow had probably driven the Dotys out of their home with her flatulence on many occasions. Sometimes, her farts were loud too. And she burped. Of all of the proper manners she had, these were not two of them.
She had one other bad habit. She loved to dig. She would dig in the yard, in the grass, under bushes to find a cool spot, and she would dig up Aunt Lis's flower gardens immediately upon arrival. She loved to roll in the grass and scratch at it with her paws like a power rake. She also liked to try to dig in the carpet in the house. She never damaged it, but there are about 3 or 4 corners of the house where she would go and scratch at the carpet - to try to find a cool spot? Our house has such cheap carpet in it right now - it holds its shape forever. There is one corner that still has her scratch marks in it. I didn't have the heart to vacuum over them yesterday.
Shadow used to have vivid dreams. During her daytime naps and at night, she would sometimes get into some crazy dreamscapes. Her paws would move up and down like she was running, and she would bark this muffled, soft, sweet, bark. We used to imagine she was dreaming about chasing squirrels or birds (two of her favorite activities.) Then, after Velvet died, we wondered if she was dreaming about playing chase tag with Velvet. They always seemed like happy dreams, not nightmares. It was the cutest thing to watch her dream.
Speaking of barking, Shadow was very conservative with her speaking. I think she was almost a year old before I ever heard her bark. We wondered if she even knew how. I had taken her to the vet. Maybe it was for her 1 year shots, I can't remember. She was sitting between my legs, underneath my chair in the waiting room, when these 2 huge chow dogs walked in. She bristled and started barking at them so loud! It caught me so off guard. She had been around tons of dogs before and had never barked at any of them. I knew something about them had made her feel threatened, or maybe she thought they would hurt me. Either way, she proved that she was on alert and ready to defend our family. After that, she would usually only bark if someone came to the house or if an animal came through the yard, or if she was playing with Velvet and trying to get Velvet to chase her.
She did get more vocal in her later years. She would especially get upset if we were packing for a trip. She soon learned that when we pulled out a suitcase that she might get left behind. She would cry and howl the entire time we packed, and it would escalate when we started packing the car. She didn't settle down until she was in the car and she knew she was coming with us.
Shadow was very sensitive to sound. She hated anything loud, including our family fighting (she would sulk if anyone was yelling at each other for very long.) But mostly, she hated fireworks and thunder and noisemakers and balloons too. Oh, and smoke alarms. We would have to put her outside if a smoke alarm went off. This poor puppy had the hardest time during summer thunderstorm season, and on holidays with fireworks. We always had a supply of ACE sedatives on hand. If it happened at night, she would stand by the bed and pant and shake ALL night. Everyone who tended her while we went on trips, got to experience this. If I was out of the house somewhere, and a thunderstorm came over, I would immediately get worried about her and try to hurry home. If no one was home during a thunderstorm, she would try to climb into corners of the house to hide. We would come home to guitars tipped over, blinds askew, French door lattices torn down, tons of dog hair in the corner of a couch where she tried to burrow, dog hair in beds where she tried to get in... we could only imagine what she had been doing, trying to get away from the sound.
One of the things we talked about as we were driving around yesterday trying to get Shadow to the vet was how unselfish she was. She never asked for anything (well, maybe she developed a funny habit of asking for treats every time she came in the house during this last year.) She was always happy, just to be. She always took care of us. She always looked out for us. Her ultimate un-selfish act was to let the cat move in last Christmas when she knew we, especially Harriet, needed it. She didn't make one fuss over it. She even befriended Kit Cat and let her sleep next to her on her bed in front of the fireplace. I'm sure Velvet is chewing her out about it right now - how could you let a CAT move in? They are DOG people!!!
I was trying to remember if she had any favorite treats like Velvet did. She never went nuts over anything like Velvet, but she did just love to share anything we had. She loved licking peanut butter out of kong toys. She loved to drink the rest of the milk out of my cereal bowl. She loved to lick the last of the ice cream out of your dish. She appreciated the half-eaten hamburgers the kids left on their plates. She loved it if you tossed her some popcorn during a movie (but she couldn't catch it.) Mostly, she just wanted to be doing what we were doing and eating what we were eating.
She always knew when something was wrong. Always. If someone was sad, you could bet Shadow would be sitting next to that person. If someone was sick in bed or on the couch, that's where Shadow napped for the day. When I came home from the hospital with babies, she stuck to me like glue. When I came home from the hospital without a baby, she was right there too. She had incredible intuition for knowing who was hurting and where she was needed. I think right up to the end, she was thinking about us.
I remember when we figured out that she was NEITHER a border collie, NOR a lab. We knew her breed was wrong on that cage, but couldn't figure out WHAT she was. She looked like a golden retriever, only black. One day, we came across it on the internet. A FLAT COAT RETRIEVER! The photo on the website looked like Shadow's twin. Every breed characteristic matched up, right down to the poop eating. Then, more recently, I came across one of those teasers on the internet that said "want to have a dog that looks like a puppy and has a puppy personality it's whole life?" I clicked on it, and sure enough, another picture of Shadow's twin. Ahhh... how we loved having a flat coat retriever. We never could have planned for that having never known anything about them before. I am so glad that cage of puppies was mis-marked. I never would have stopped.
I've got to write down what happened on Friday, even though it's super sad and painful. Don't read it if you don't want to. Shadow's health has been going downhill all year, since Velvet died. She quickly deteriorated from long walks and hikes to short walks to walking to the bus stop and mail box. She developed bad bladder infections and a terrible anal infection earlier this year. She had a stroke this summer before we left for Utah. I couldn't believe she seemed to recover from that in a day, but I knew that meant she would probably have more at some point. Her tumors got bigger and she developed new ones. We knew what was coming, but didn't know when or how fast.
Traveling to Denver and Utah this summer was good for Shadow to be with us and not be left behind for so long. But, the trip it took its toll too. Riding in the car for that long, going up and down basement stairs multiple times a day at Jane's and Melissa's houses, not having David with us... It aged her. During the last week at Melissa's, I was carrying her up the stairs every day. She was taking longer and longer naps and moving around less and less. After getting back home to ABQ, she really became stationary. She often wouldn't move from the spot she chose in the morning unless I forced her to get up and go outside. I think she developed this type of dog dementia where they get their days and nights mixed up. She would be completely out all day and then totally restless all night. Truly, I haven't really slept since we got home a month ago. Especially, the last couple of weeks, I have been awake most of the night letting Shadow in and out, hearing her pant and whine. This week, I started sleeping downstairs with her. We would all go to bed upstairs together, but the first time she got up (usually around 1am or 2am), I would come downstairs with her, let her out, and then sleep on the couch next to her bed so that we could go in and out without going up and down stairs all night. A couple days ago, I took Shadow's collar off. A huge tumor had grown underneath it in a weeks' time. Not good.
The last night, Thursday night, I knew things were bad. I let her out at about 2am and she laid down in the grass and couldn't/wouldn't get back up. I had to force her to stand up, and then guide her back inside. She could barely walk from the patio to the back door. I "slept" the rest of the night on the living room floor with her trying to make her comfortable.
During the day on Thursday, I had already made an appointment for Monday to take her in and get her some pain meds. I had been debating about vaccinations too, she was due for the next round. I really didn't know how long she had. (There was an appointment available at 4 on Friday, but I turned it down because Harriet had a guitar lesson after school.) I knew the end was near, but not sure how near and she was definitely in pain. I didn't feel like it was time yet, but wanted to make the rest of her time more bearable. I thought we had a couple more weeks at least. I wondered what I would do when we went to Utah in October - if I would be able to leave her or if I would take her with me again.
Friday morning. I told David how bad the night had been. We kind of both agreed that maybe an appointment that day would be important. We really didn't think anything would happen during the day, but no longer, did I think we had weeks to think about it. Maybe we had a day or two at the most. David rode his bike to work. I decided to cancel guitar and call to get that 4pm appointment for pain meds, at least. I put Grace on the bus. She was beyond excited for the day at school because they got to dress down and wear their favorite college team gear. She was dressed to the 9's in Ute stuff. The day before, Grace had walked Shadow to the bus stop with her, but Harriet hadn't done it because she was running late. I had promised Harriet she could walk her on Friday.
When Harriet was ready for school, dressed all super cute and excited about her day as well, she asked to take Shadow to the bus. UGH! I knew Shadow couldn't even walk across the patio, let alone to the bus stop. If I told Harriet that, she would know something was wrong. If I didn't let her try to take Shadow, she might never get another chance. I didn't know what to do, so I prayed she could make it. I put Shadow's collar and leash on. Shadow trotted down the driveway, excited for the outing. A glimmer of hope! I thought we'd be okay. Halfway across the street, she slowed and could barely walk. At the mailbox, she collapsed and could not get back up. I looked at Harriet's face. She knew everything. I told her to just go get on the bus and Shadow would be okay til she got home. She was not buying it. One thing about Harriet - she KNOWS. That kid is connected. She knew how bad it was before I did. She started crying and said there was no way she was going to school. With everyone at the bus stop watching, I bent down, picked up Shadow and carried her back to the house with Harriet sobbing.
We struggled into the house and I called the school to excuse Harriet - left a message on the attendance line that our dog had collapsed at the bus stop and Harriet couldn't face school today. The secretary called me back after she heard my message and was SO incredibly nice and genuinely concerned for our family and said she would pray for us. I really couldn't believe it. It meant so much to know that people really do care about others and have compassion.
Harriet started insisting that I go get Grace. I knew how much Grace had looked forward to the day, how much she hated missing school, and I didn't want to ruin it for her, especially if we decided Shadow was okay. David didn't think I should go get Grace either. Hattie thought otherwise. I didn't know what to do. I called to get the 4pm appointment. It was gone. I called our old vet across town. They had a 4pm. I dragged my feet, but realized I should ask for the euthanasia appointment. I thought about the morning - she couldn't move. She hadn't eaten her food in days. I had been giving her chicken and fish from our meals. She wouldn't drink the milk from my cereal bowl that morning. I couldn't remember the last time she had a drink of water. I had offered her water during the night, but she wouldn't drink. She was miserable. This couldn't go on. Hattie made me shower and get dressed. Hattie made Kit Cat come and say good-bye to Shadow.
Just after that, Shadow came running sideways into the kitchen, heading for the back door. I opened the door, and she threw herself into the lawn and started having a seizure and stroke. It was awful. I wish I could erase that memory. (Harriet, now, says she wishes she could forget everything from Friday morning too.) Still - she had had the one stroke before and recovered pretty quick, so I didn't think it would kill her. Then, all of a sudden, she wasn't breathing. She was perfectly still. I panicked like I have never panicked in my life. Grace didn't get to say good-bye and it was my fault! Hattie was right, right, right, all morning. How would Grace ever forgive me, I didn't know. I started yelling for Harriet, praying at the same time, as I shook and rubbed Shadow to see if she was still there. She wasn't. It felt like an hour, but it was probably less than a minute. I saw her side move. She started breathing again. Oh my gosh. This sweet puppy - she just needed to go, for herself, but knew that she had to hang on for us. I could tell she was trying hard to stay for Grace.
I didn't know what to do - leave her and go get Grace? But what if she died while I was gone? Plus, I didn't want to leave her in that state anyway, alone and scared, to die by herself in the yard. She deserved more than that. Do I take her to the school with me? Do I leave her with Harriet for a few minutes? But that's not fair to Harriet to leave her alone with her dying dog. That's insane. What to do??? Harriet, of course, knew exactly what to do. PUT HER IN THE CAR and LET'S GO!!! Come ON mom! She knew we had to get that dog to Grace to say good-bye, no matter how we had to do it - if we had to drag her into the school, we would.
I bent down to pick up Shadow. Dead weight. I had just carried her from the mailbox to the house, but I couldn't even lift her now. I could NOT lift her! New panic. I ran inside to get a towel and her bed. I pulled her onto her bed and folded her up into it like a sandwich sling and I was able to lift it all just off the ground enough to get her in the house (it was also super hot on the lawn where she had fallen, so I really didn't want to leave her there.) Now to get her to the garage. The first car out the door was the pathfinder with it's hatch right out the kitchen door. I threw open the hatch, and tried to lift Shadow in, but again, I couldn't lift her! Why? I can lift just about anything, usually. (I have that weird Mitchell girl strength where we have never worked out in our lives, but we can carry an armoire down the stairs when we are 8 years old.) My strength was completely gone. I thought you were supposed to have extra strength in a crisis, where was it? But nothing came. How many times that morning, would I be grateful that Harriet had stayed home? It was a lot. I had been beating myself up that I even let her try to walk Shadow to the bus stop, but in the end, that was exactly what I had needed to do. I needed Hattie home that morning. Hattie helped me lift her into the car. Her arms were probably stronger than mine at that point. I couldn't believe how much she lifted off of my weight.
We jumped in and I started calling the school. I know it takes FOREVER for the school secretaries to get the teachers to release a student, to pack up the back pack, to get to the office. It could be 20 minutes before Grace got out. I begged them to get her out quick and get her to the office so I could sign her out when I pulled up. Hot day - parked the car in the fire lane and left it running with Shadow and Harriet inside and ran into the school. It still took a good 5 minutes for her to get to the office after I got there. Poor Grace. She knew why I was there. I took her outside and opened the back so she could see Shadow. I'm pretty sure the whole school heard her screaming and wailing. I had taken a picture of Harriet and Kit Cat saying good-bye, but there was no taking a picture of this. She is so super dramatic. Even Harriet was dreading picking her up "because of the weeping" Grace does. She is really loud. It is amazing to me how strong and collected Grace is on the outside, but when things are tough, she falls to a million pieces. Harriet is the exact opposite. She is more often than not, a mess on the outside - shy, intense, moody, and never sure of herself. But, when things are tough, she has an inner strength and wisdom that is way beyond her years.
1,2,3 of us in the car with Shadow. We were still missing David and I didn't know what the heck we were going to do when we got him. It was only like 10:45 in the morning and I didn't have an appointment with a vet until 4 and the ER vet on the west side didn't open until 5. I had been trying to avoid the ER vet on the east side where we took Velvet last year, but realized it was our only option. So, I pulled into the church parking lot to look up the number and called them to be sure we could come. Thankfully, they are open 24/7 and only take walk-in patients.
Since David had ridden his bike to work, he walked up the hill to the only open gate on base, and we made the trek to the Air Force Base to pick him up and then another trek to the ER vet. Shadow, thankfully, was still breathing peacefully in the back. David said a prayer for her and we made it to the vet. Grace really wanted him to give her a blessing like he did for Velvet, but there just wasn't the right time or place. I think the prayer was sufficient.
After that, everything was like deja vu. It all happened the same way that it happened with Velvet. We said long good-byes. David told a bunch of stories of "remember when Shadow did this or that."
The girls left the room and we stayed with Shadow. It was very easy and peaceful. Again, Grace did not want to have any memory of seeing her dead, so she stayed in the hallway while Harriet came back in. Hattie lingered a long time before she was willing to leave the room and go home. But, finally, we all walked out. By the time it was over, it was 1:00. David had to go back to work, and we had a long weekend ahead with too much to do.
No one had eaten anything all day. Hattie wanted mashed potatoes, so we stopped at KFC. Grace and I got drinks, and we headed home. Grace begged us to not go to sonic for ice cream like we did after Velvet died.
I guess I'm grateful we've had such a busy weekend (David was in charge of cooking for 60 people for the high priest social on Saturday, primary program practice and feeding the missionaries on Sunday), it has kept our minds occupied on other things for the most part. But, the house is again, too quiet. I am still waking up at 5am because that is the latest Shadow has let me sleep in the past month. Every 2 hours I head for the back door to let her out. Every time we leave the house, I start heading for the other room to get Shadow so she can go out before we leave. This morning, I ate my first bowl of cereal since, and dumped the extra milk down the sink - no doggie to drink the rest. It is weird that the back door stays shut ALL day long. That has not happened in over 15 years. The missing is the worst part.
I still haven't had time to really clean up. Vacuum dog fur. Put beds away. Figure out what to do with everything. We plan to get a puppy sometime later this year, but definitely aren't ready to do that yet. Most things will go into a bin for new puppy. But, about a week ago I bought a brand new 40 pound bag of food senior for Shadow. A puppy won't be able to eat it. Most of it was still sitting there since she kind of stopped eating a few days after I bought it. Harriet could not stand it. She begged me to do something with it. So, yesterday, we took a couple of hours and drove out to the Watermelon Ranch animal rescue shelter and donated it. It was very unceremonious, but I'm glad that they could use it. All of the dogs there were chihuahuas, so they were not tempting at all (not that we would have picked one up anyway.) But, we did meet a white cat with blue eyes and 2 extra paws on her front feet! She was insanely sweet and very cool with her extra paws. We all fell in love with her. We knew we couldn't bring her home, but it was nice to have a little distraction and some happiness in the day. Thanks, white kitty.
We are so grateful for Shadow. She brought so much to our family and took very little. I will always feel indebted to her. I have said throughout her life, that if I could clone her, I would keep the same pet forever. She was amazing. Grace is struggling with this so much. She wailed in the car on the way to pick up David... WHY don't dogs live longer? WHY is this happening today? She was all I had left! It struck me that Grace was clinging to Shadow because she was her connection to the past. She said over and over: "She's all I have left of Velvet," and I realized she was truly our last tangible connection to the past 15 years - to our life in Stow, to our life in Salt Lake, to the baby years, to everyone who had loved her along the way. Losing her is truly the end of a huge chapter in our lives, and we can't have it back. The house feels so WRONG without her. Harriet says she doesn't want to go to sleep at night without a dog in the house. She hasn't slept much since Thursday. Life is very different without Shadow, and of course Velvet. The death was hard, but the missing is the worst part. Even if we love another dog just as much, it won't connect us to those years that are gone and it won't know all that we have been through as a family. I don't know what it is about dogs that make a family feel complete like that, but we are definitely incomplete now.
We know Shadow went straight to heaven. Even though all dogs go to heaven, Shadow was the purest soul I've ever known. She deserves every soft bed, every game of tag with Velvet, chasing every squirrel and duck, digging every flower bed in the landscaping around the Pearly Gates, finding a cool spot under every bush, the extra milk from some angel's cereal bowl.
I don't know why I noticed the sky so much the day each dog died. But on Shadow's day, it was full of huge white puffy clouds. Then, this sort of flat, thick, misty cloud settled on top of the Sandia's and stayed there all weekend.
No comments:
Post a Comment