33 Comments

  1. I so loved this post! Thank you for sharing. It made me cry, but they were happy tears, as I’ve always felt our dogs’ spirits lived on within us. I do believe we will see them again someday too.

  2. What a lovely post, it made me cry as well. Dogs so enrich our lives; Thank you for sharing.
    Carol and Molly
    xoxoxo

  3. You always find the neatest quotes. Thanks for sharing about the dogs – it makes me feel better just reading. I have loved seven wonderful animals over the years and I am down to my last two. Each one was special and different and I have wonderful memories of all.

  4. Absolutely beautiful. It has brought me to tears. I had a gorgous cat named Frosty, who has been gone for many years. I remember crying for a year every day. Frosty was the last tangible link to someone whom I had lost. Thank you for sharing. I have a friend to share this.

  5. I grew up in WV my husbands job transfered him to Michigan now we live in Amish Country Ohio. Any way I took my seedum plants from state to state. And they are still doing just fine. My seedum plants are 40 years old. They have to be tough with very strong roots.

    1. I don’t know how old my sedum is. But when I moved here one of you readers sent it to me from California. I think wrapped in damp newspaper.

  6. The quote you shared is sweet but somehow it strikes me as just a nice fantasy. Which is okay, but for me the things I miss most about my Tavi are the tactile things like the feel of his soft, curly fur and and the warmth of his big body next to me on the bed at night. And I miss looking at his beautiful brown eyes and touching those long, soft ears. I know that my memories and experiences of him live on “in my heart,” but those are intangible and what I miss is the tangible reality of him. Yesterday, I was cleaning out a drawer and I found a little plastic bag with a bunch of his hair in it. It made me so happy to know that I had saved it and still had a bit of the physical Tavi. I have his ashes, of course, but those are not comforting to me like finding the fur was. Maybe I’m just an oddball but that’s how I feel. And I don’t mean to take away any bit of meaning or comfort that the writing has for others at all. I’m happy for whoever it is meaningful for. It’s just like grieving–we all do it differently. And that’s okay.

    Well, my flowers are just about all gone except for a few petunias and some of the impatiens I planted under the maple tree out my kitchen window. It’s been pretty cool here the last few days. And yesterday was one of those cold, rainy days. Today is sunny, though not warm. I actually turned my furnace on yesterday. I can’t stand the damp coldness we have here in Michigan.

    How nice you got to have lunch with your daughter again. Also, that Charlie did okay while you were gone. That little treat you gave him must have some magic in it! Whatever works, I say!

    Hope your weekend’s a good one. Hugs and pats.

    1. You’re not an oddball. Oh why didn’t I think to clip some fur from Abi???

  7. A LOVED ONES TIME WITH US COMES TO AN END, THAT’S JUST THE WAY IT IS, BUT OUR MEMORIES OF THEM IS WITH US FOREVER !

  8. Brenda, I would love to see how your sedum, Autumn Joy, looks now that it is the darkest, since you have shown us the other two photos as it was changing. Is it a dark pink or dark red? Sedum is beautiful!
    PS, the essay “Why Dogs Never Die” is by Justin Palmer.

    1. Thanks for telling me who wrote that poignant piece. I took a photo of the sedum autumn joy this morning. I’ll show it tomorrow.

  9. Well I had tears rolling down my cheeks after reading that quote. Had a good little cry.
    Brenda I know you are enjoying your flowers although they are fading; I always loved lantana and pentas as they seem to attract butterflies and hummingbirds.
    Glad you got to see your daughter; you are lucky to have her near.

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