Seen in the woods this weekend:
There were photos, notes and drawings in the baggies attached to the cross. Enough to know that Ms. Boothe was a nine-year-old black Lab.
None of Issabell’s young friends may have known how to spell her name, but they sure did love her.
Breaks my heart. This girl was a year younger than Ava and six years younger than Robbie.
I got something in my eye…
Anyway, Ive lost many over the years and it never gets easier. Each time I tell myself the heartbreak is not worth it, but there is always a new one to steal my heart. This was a nice tribute. The last one that passed here was a sweet old retired guide dog and I just planted a rose bush over her place in the yard. I am pretty sure that i probably violated some city ordnance, but ef’em.
Daisy still jumping in and out of the truck here, but you can tell things. The kids act like it won’t be too big of a deal for them. Sigh…
When I was a child our dog got hit by a train. Sweetest thing, probably just wanted to play. My mother was the one who freaked. We were not allowed to get another dog and to this day she still won’t talk about it let alone get one.
If I said I had one buried in the national forest I would be admitting to a crime, so I won’t. Kipling, as he did with so many other issues, put it best. http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/kipling/power_of_dog.html It’s always a hard read for me.
It’s outside of official policy, but I know of several fur-friends buried in shady spots around our shooting club property. There’s a ghost-pack story there somewhere.
The kids act like it won’t be too big of a deal for them.
Kids act like a lot of things are no big deal. A lot of times it’s an act.
Awww. It’s never easy to lose a fur-baby.