Shining Brightly

Dawn has always said that she has a foot in each of two worlds; she has recognized my Skater's "visits" on more than one occasion and realized things about him that I had never told her. She suggested that I keep a candle lit in the window for him every night.

Here is your candle, my precious boy; let it guide you to whatever you seek.

Birthday Bunnies

Whoever believes that there is no heaven and that the spirits of those who have gone before us do not watch and guide us from the idyllic place, has never been blessed with the love and friendship of a Dog.

Thank you for the message, Skater. Again, happy birthday, my boy.

5479 Days

Fifteen years (or 5479 days) ago, on an overcast Thursday afternoon, you entered this world and my life. In that first moment, little did I know that I was holding a tiny miracle, two pounds of fur-wrapped bliss that would forever change my life.

Our journey has been amazing, yet very unevenly weighted on those heavenly scales. You have put so much into your side, I have put comparatively little into mine. I am human, incapable of the unconditional and constant faith, devotion and love you have always given. My love for you is greater than any I have ever known yet inevitably lacks the purity of yours for me. There is a reason the God spelled backwards is Dog.

You are my prayer, my constant presence, my ever-vigilant guardian. If I could only see your beautiful face, look into the depth of your eyes and bury my face into your comforting neck once more ... then MY life would be heaven.

I miss you, Skater, sometimes more than I can stand. I pray for you, for those who went before you, but, first and last, always for you. I honor and celebrate you. And, on this sunny anniversary of your birth, I celebrate your journey and thank you for choosing me as the faulty human with whom you take that journey. I love you, Bug. Happy Birthday.

Boundiful Blessings

No, the title of this post is what I meant it to be; no typos involved.

Sometimes .... all the time ... I miss Skater so much it is palpable. One of his most endearing qualities was an immeasurable sweetness with a little bit of goofy thrown in for good measure. No matter what my mood, Skater could always bring a smile to my face or flat out make me laugh. He had talent. He had heart. He had a wonderful sense of humor.

Bounder is a very funny young dog and spending time with him, just watching him BE a dog, is one of my life's secret pleasures. Yesterday, I watched his silly antics and just reveled in my memories of THE dog of my heart. Somehow, I think Bounder knows what will make me laugh, what will make those photographs in my mind come alive again. When Skater was a baby, we called him Baby Huey; he was this goofball of a mobile stuffed toy that loved to explore and expand his unique sense of humor.

First of all, Bounder cannot seem to just lay down. Instead, he does this silly tuck and roll, eyes sparkling and tongue lolling. The end result is a major flop to the ground, on his side, with a definite grin on his handsome face. That was Skater's first "trick", invented on his own, perfected over time. It reminds me.

Both Skater and his uncle, Grouch, had a unique way of approaching someone they loved. Each would run, full tilt, straight at you. Skater ended the run with a tuck and roll. Grouch, who was a very large dog, ended his run with a dive between your legs. With his shoulders below your crotch, he would stand up straight and tip you over. Doggy bowling I suppose. Bounder has combined the two ... he runs, dives between your legs and just keeps going! It reminds me.

As I've said many times, I do ... I MUST ... believe that my Skater is still here with me. He leaves little signs and, yesterday, Bounder brought me one of those reminders. My little dork, Divot, who was raised by Skater, has always removed the eyes from all her toys; it's as if she thinks it blinds them so they won't see her coming. Skater, on the other hand, never harmed any of his precious toys. Bounder has a stuffed puppy. He obviously loves the spit-stiff little thing and he was VERY proud to share it with me yesterday. When I picked it up to throw it to him I noticed that he had removed one eye. It reminds me.