I have sometimes thought of the final cause of dogs having such short lives and I am quite satisfied it is in compassion to the human race; for if we suffer so much in losing a dog after an acquaintance of ten or twelve years, what would it be if they were to live double that time? Sir Walter Scott
Bud took his last breath yesterday and found peace. Luckily, my Dad was able to get him buried before the snow started to fall very early this morning so hopefully he'll find some peace of his own soon. I know all too well what it feels like to hope and pray for an end to sufferring, only to want just a little more time in the end. Death is so absolute, final, so stark.
The beautiful, cleansing snow followed us home from Colorado. It pretty much snowed the entire time we were there, and now we are in for a feet not inches here. I have much to share about our whirlwind trip West, but today's just not the day...today I'm feeling quiet and withdrawn. Today I want to curl up on the couch under an afghan and sip something warm and sweet. Today I want to hunker down with The Shack and look up once in awhile only to see the snow swirling outside and the birds sneaking in for a little suet and seed as they brave the storm. Today's a day for keeping warm any way I can, and for doing only what absolutely needs to be done.