The five of us stood holding hands as the last clod of dirt filled the hole. She had led a good life full of good friends and good food. (Kabira loved her food and if you heard her tell the story she’d say that there was never enough of it)..
As we stood there, tears rolling down our faces, I reminded everyone that the tears were a tribute to her. She was a good dog, you couldn’t have asked for better. She was a quiet protector and friend to our small family.
Gosh it’s hard to write through the tears.
Kabira on her ‘getting day’.
Bella and Kabira were best friends from the start.
She grew quickly.
Kabira was Spike’s protector.
The trio spent lots of time together camping and walking and even travelling across Canada. She was a great traveller - she’d lie down and go to sleep the moment she was in the truck and not stir until we were stopped again.
The game is afoot! She could run like the wind and turn on a dime. Poetry in motion.
She loved her comforts, eschewing grass for a more comfortable cushion whenever possible.
Even if it meant squishing herself into the tiniest of beds. She could make herself so small.
An old girl.
She was a dear friend that will be missed by us all.
“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.”
~Lemony Snicket
No comments:
Post a Comment