Life goes on... and on

I wrote the post below on November 3rd, on maybe four hours of sleep.  Tired, overly emotional, but sincere.  Just posting it today.


We are recovering, albeit slowly, from losing Buster.  I think I'm just fine, we talk about getting another adult dog or even a puppy, then I read that last blog post.  The tears are still there.  I still miss Buster when I hike to the river with Zaq.  I miss him when I kayak alone down a gentle river.  I miss his funny face and how he drooled all over himself and everyone else when food was around.


But we are moving forward.  We went to a dog show last Saturday.  We took Zaq, but didn't realize he would be allowed to come in, though not competing.  We met some very nice folks and some wonderful dogs.  We are going to go see an adult dog who needs another home this weekend.  I don't know what to think or how to feel.  


I suspect that this is one of those circumstances when your heart grows bigger than you thought it could.  When you think, "I can't replace him!"  And then you begin to see the edge of the experience the way it might be.  That maybe your heart can still love and miss and want to kiss the one who is gone AND love and kiss the ones who are here.


It was a big night for me last night, but that's another blog altogether.  I'm tired and a little bit emotional... okay, I'm crying as I write this. But I was inspired by someone else who had a big night.  In the middle of one of the most notable successes of her life, she recognized that she is still the same person to her dog.  This is truth.


Here's what she shared with me and others.  I've got to share it with you.  


http://www.andiesisle.com/GoD_and_DoG.html

So long, sweetheart

It's been a while since I've posted. Between work and personal stuff, it's been a busy time. And I guess I haven't had anything I just had to say. But now I do.

We had to say goodbye to our precious, magnificent Buster about a week and half ago. He wasn't feeling so good, but we thought he'd stay with us for a while yet. One evening, our younger dog, Zaq, woke us up to a very sick Buster. We quickly learned that he had a number of medical crises at the same time; and wouldn't have survived the first treatment needed to save his life. Our decision was clear.

We brought Zaq with us to visit with Buster as we said goodbye and prayed him back to Jesus. If our Lord knows when a sparrow falls, He surely knew what a blessing Buster was to Mark and I - and surely, Buster has his great head on our Lord's knee this very moment.

I miss him - today especially. It used to be that I'd take both Zaq and Buster on a long hike to the dog beach at the river once or twice a weekend. Now, it's just Zaq and me on those hikes. We're both adjusting, but we both still miss Buster. So does Mark. During the last year of Buster's life, they were almost constant companions. Buster was an office dog from the first weeks of his life right up until his last day.

Buster's real name was Robusto e dolce. Strong and sweet, the way I like espresso. He was the biggest dog we'd ever had (still). For a Bernese, he was very tall. Let me put it this way - the bottom of his chin easily cleared the dining room table. Since Buster had a true fascination with "people food," we ended up training him to lay at our feet during meals. What a good boy. He'd sit there, drooling all over the beautiful white ruff on his chest, trusting that there would be some scrap for him. Of course, there almost always was.

  

Buster loved the beach.  Even in his older years, he'd race Zaq.  Here he is, winning the last race to get to Daddy (and treats) first.  He probably paid for it the next day, but I'll bet it was worth it to him, just to beat Zaq.  

I remember that day.  

Good dog.