Sunday, November 30, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
|Make a Smilebox slideshow|
This story is posted on my blog (Sparkling Waters) but I wanted to put it into a slideshow as a memorial to my sweet Vixen who passed two years ago very suddenly from liver failure. For those who have known the loss of a pet in their lives, this message is for all of you.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
"I think he's in his crate!" commented Alex.
"Yes, he must be having a 'time out'," James agreed.
"Well, he probably ate poop!" Meadow added.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
“Something was swimming across the pond this morning”, my husband said to me this morning. “It was diving under the water and coming up in another spot.”
“The comerant has been around and that is what it does,” I replied.
“No, it looked like an animal, maybe a beaver.”
“I don’t think it is a beaver,” I said. “Where would his lodge be?”
“Hmmmm, I wonder if it is an otter?”
Later, while the Labs romped across the hillside, I stood, watching the sparkling waters of the pond, the breeze blowing the last leaves from the bare branches. The ripples spread out in circular bands and as I squinted into the sunlight, I caught a glimpse of something swimming from the water’s edge. Perhaps this was what my husband had seen earlier this morning. Whatever it was, dove down and then popped back up a distance away. As I watched, I spotted two small dark spots, gliding effortlessly.
“Quick, come look,” I yelled to my husband. “Go get the binoculars. Whatever it is there are two and they are swimming and diving.”
Sunday, November 9, 2008
An overwhelming sense of sadness each time I see this but still a feeling that her spirit is strong and continues to watch over her human and furry family. In some way, the rest of the Labs know this as they spend many moments waiting and watching by the fence gate that separates them from the field and pond. I feel their sense of yearning as they silently stand, pointing their noses upward, sniffing the air, peaceful and patient.
The day I scattered her ashes across the water’s edge, the wind blew briskly, spreading her spirit widely before settling it into the clear November coolness. I will never forget the image of the eerie white changing to blue as her ashes blended with the pond. Sometimes, on summer nights, when the sky is crystal clear, I see similar lights, move across the dark waters. Twinkling, dancing, like underwater fireflies. Were those always there too?
Did the pond’s water sparkle like that before Vixen died? Maybe, but I feel her presence so strongly, that for me, I have to believe it did not.