WARNING: HAPPY, SAD, A BIT OF A SOAP BOX.
I'm stumbling forward through my tears because my beloved Stewart died suddenly yesterday afternoon. However, he insists I not spend a lot of time grieving because we have much to do. And I am reminded how very fortunate I am to know so many dog lovers.
Though I live in the city, I have very caring "country" neighbors and we watch out for each other, including yesterday evening when I knocked on their door with an unusual request to help me with my dog.
I also still have a number of friends at Willamette Humane Society, including BJ, who stayed late to be sure my furbaby was caringly prepared for a private cremation, one of their services. I know many of you have, but if you're looking for a new furry family member, please consider adopting a pet from the shelter. Most of my furbabies have come from rescue situations. Go ahead. Open that kennel door and become part of a miracle. Let a shelter pet rescue you!
Of course, I always appreciate my adult sons, who still seem a bit baffled over what to do with a sobbing mother who usually cries only behind the locked bathroom door.
But I don't want this message to be depressing. I've been communicating with animals a number of years, so I know they transition to a beautiful place where they are no longer plagued with the limitations of physical bodies. However, their spirits are always with us and communicate with us when we tune into them. Or, in my case, when I need a kick in the fanny. :) And my Stewart, along with my other angel furbabies, are pushing me hard to keep moving toward our dream of a farm where many animals can find a sanctuary.
They are telling me we need our dreams now more than ever. When so many things in our society seem to be falling apart, our dreams and our caring for each other--including our fur, feathered and finned babies--will usher in that Age of Aquarius my generation used to sing about.