Rest-ed in Peace

This weekend I had to say a very difficult goodbye.  Dixie, our 14 year old Golden Retriever, started having seizures Friday night and by Easter morning it was clear she would not ever return to her bubbly self.  Despite her age, she always acted like a puppy, so to see her unable to even lift her head when we put a piece of chicken to her nose was devastating.  Thankfully, and perhaps by some cosmic miracle, all members of our family were home for the holiday and able to be in the room with our girl when she took her last doggy breath.

In a way, I believe her passing on Easter was symbolic.  We always said she was a saint--the back door left wide open and she'd sit at the top of the stairs, watching the chipmunks patiently and protecting her family from intruders, never once wandering off or harming a soul.  She'd rest her nose lovingly in your lap after a long day to let you know someone was there when you felt alone in the world.  She'd gently nudge your elbow for a pat because there was never enough love to go around.

I love you my poopy pup, my baby girl.  May your heaven be filled with filet mignon, long walks, and plenty of sloppy love.