It’s been two weeks since our Lizzie returned to the universe. She played like a puppy on Friday. Saturday the grand mal seizures began. She never recovered. Lizzie was in her thirteenth year.
I totally loved her, my friend Lizzie, the best dog ever.
To understand a friend who belongs to another species
I’ve loved every dog and cat who has been part of my life. Lizzie was different. Becky was a pal when I was a boy. Honey cat came in through the kitchen window when I needed a friend. She stuck with me through the worst year of my life. Smudge and Em, Sherman and Z, Meg Dog. So many others.
Lizzie was different.
It might be because she came after the others. It may be because we spent nearly every hour of everyday together. Or it may be because I was finally ready to accept the boundless unfettered devotion of the most gentle soul I have ever encountered.
Some folks thought Lizzie was timid. I think she was humble. Day after day I watched how joyfully she greeted friends and how smoothly she avoided conflict, free of self-importance. And I learned.
Lizzie always wanted to go, she on her olfactory quest, me on my visual plane. Ready to go but never in a hurry. Slow down, she’d urge. Life is a wonder to be explored and savored. And I learned.
We played together. A lot. We ran agility when she was young. I loved to watch that girl run. To see her jump and play and chase her ball. When she grew too old, Lizzie enjoyed hide and seek. She never stopped playing.
In sharing my days with Lizzie I learned about being a better version of myself. I came to realize my friends whether canine, feline, or human (and everyone else!) are each made singular, beautiful, and lovable by the same forces that made me.
What would my world have been without Lizzie?
It takes courage to love our friends intensely
Our dogs are with us for such a short time. Yet we allow our fates to become intertwined knowing our friendship will last no more than a score of years. Lizzie’s death wounded me. I miss this friend I once could touch.
We don’t know when, but those who arrive will leave one day as well.
A friend cannot be kept within sight or reach. She must follow her own path. And I've come to realize - though Lizzie no longer walks beside me, she remains in time and place, in my love and memory. I am comfortable knowing how my friend still graces this vast and miraculous universe.
Me tengo que ir …, como el viento.
Sin saber donde…, pero contento.
Contento de haber vivido, de haber soñado.
Feliz, por los que amado.
Y doy gracias por haberlos tenido.
Por haberlos disfrutado.
Me tengo que ir…, como el viento.
Amando, feliz y conquistado.
Como el viento…susurrrando, firme y no olvidando.
Me tengo que ir…, con el viento.
Not knowing where..., but happy.
Happy to have lived, to have dreamed.
Happy, for those I have loved.
And thankful for having them.
For having enjoyed them.
I have to go ..., like the wind.
Loving, happy, and deeply loved.
Like the wind ... whispering, steady, and remembered.
I have to go ..., with the wind.
Jamie Wyant is a retired American. After living in Valencia, Spain, he set out on a long, slow journey with his wife, Susan, and their senior cats. He writes about the joys and tribulations of living and traveling gently . Jamie also manages the technical aspects of GentleCycle.net