Man In The Moon Made Marigolds

I don't know what it is with me, the moon, marigolds and the incredible connection I have with my dogs. I suppose that the moon thing has to do with my name; depending upon whether you prefer Greek or Roman mythology, Diana was the goddess of the moon. Reasonable explanation, right? As for the marigolds, I have no clue. Skater liked to nap next to the marigolds, he liked to pose for photos with the marigolds and, although he would sometimes snack on the houseplants, he never touched the marigolds. I still have packets of seed labeled, "Skater's Marigolds". So I guess the link is tenuous but a link nonetheless - something out of Kevin Bacon's Six Degrees of Separation theory. It works for me.

It's an introspective week and a sad one. I miss Lilly, her gentle presence, her silly antics. As in any situation where one has to make a life and death decision, I am dealing with the inevitable question of "Did I do the right thing?", even when I know that I have; I do not envy God his power and authority. A few days ago, someone asked, "How do you know when it's time to let go?" Those of us who have been through the process of making that horrible decision all gave the same reply ... "They tell you." Later, I wondered if a non-doggy person could even make any sense of that answer. How do you explain the look in the eye of a beloved friend, the gesture that look makes and the question it begs? How do you explain that it chills you to the very core because, as a friend, love and guardian, you must comply with that wish? But, it's the only answer there is. These dogs are so much more accepting than we are; I believe that, as do the very religious among us, they understand that death is as much a part of the process as life, and accept the transition with a peace and knowledge we do not and cannot possess. These little canine miracles are wise beyond our comprehension.

I was so grateful that Skater never made me make that final decision. In retrospect, he actually did only I didn't realize it at the time. One day, when I am able, I will explain that. For now, I realize that Lilly bestowed the ultimate trust upon me, a faith that is greater than any other; that I would do what was best for her and not what was easiest for me. I did ... I hated it as I have hated it every time a dog has asked the same of me and will hate it again in the future. Nothing good comes without a price and the price of living with these amazing, noble and loving German Shepherds is having to accept their acceptance and do what's right for them in the end.

The moon above is what I see across the road every day. I now see Lilly looking down at me, telling me, "It's okay, mom, you did good." I hope so.