She was with infection The antibiotics and the doctor’s skill could not save her.
She passed away.
I went out to the garden and picked out a peaceful spot .
It was a place where I don’t till or mow and dug her a hole.
I was thinking about her and her funny ways as I buried her. It was only lately she would come to me and loved it when my fingers curled her hair.
Before then she used to shy away.
There were only two of us in the garden and as I reflected on her short life and her offspring, I realized the earth will take her and she will vanish with time.
Her body will be gone and I wondered if the energy that made her what she is, will live on.
I thought to myself why not?
Life is a partial journey. A part of something much bigger than we know.
The realization of that possibility inspires hope and the awareness of God.
There is much we do not know but nature taught me that.
As I buried Gia in the black fertile soil, I understood she was not destroyed, just changed.
Gia was a dog.
Man dies the same.
Bless you. I hope you’re okay–when my buddy goes, I’m gonna be pretty sad. They leave us our memories, and maybe we will see them when we cross over. Who knows?