My Dog Died
My dog died.
I, at first, was going to leave it at that. My dog died. A Monday Morning Writing.
Then I was thinking I’d share this book I wrote about her. I wrote it a while ago, like a number of years ago, like 3 years ago. For my grandson back east who I did not see enough when he was just him before his brother was born and I wrote this book about Nava. And then, more recently, a publisher published it. I will write about it more on another Monday day. About my Nava book. For today, this Monday…this Monday is just about my Nava.
My dog died.
This past Wednesday. At exactly (or pretty much exactly) 3:30 in the afternoon. I know this because I was finishing up a call while playing ball—because Nava and I are always playing ball—and waiting for a couple to come over for a mediation. I am helping them end their marriage. They are a beautiful and mindful couple and it is an honor to work with them as they navigate this end that is a new beginning really.
They were due at my home at 3:30. And my dog died. And they arrived. And sat with me and my husband for just a time. And helped move my sweet and beautiful and now gone dog into my home to nestle in her bed that she always loved. They held sweet space while the husband of this couple held up half the weight of my dog.
My dog died.
We were playing ball. And then, for a moment I was kicking at the ball alone and turned to see my dog. Something was wrong and I called her name and she tried to stand and couldn’t. But soon she calmed, and I thought that what it was had passed. And then she passed.
How do I write about my dog now that my dog died?
I thought I would just write that. My dog died. A Monday Morning Writing.
Then I thought I would share all the times, in all these times that I have been writing, all the times that I write about her. That I reference her. That her photograph accompanies my writing as her soul accompanies me.
But, you see, almost every writing that I have written since my dog became my dog has some reference to my dog. Almost every writing includes my dog. How can I share every writing?
And so, instead, I read every writing. I read all my writings. Looking for her. And I found her everywhere. Often Nava writings. Often just pieces of bigger writings that I wrote, not, maybe not, necessarily about Nava. Just that she was there. In my writings. All the time.
Just as she is here. In my heart. All the time.
My dog died. Her heart broke. My heart is broken.
~ Photograph taken at Ventura Dog Ranch on 9.6.2021. Nava would board here when we would go away. She loved this place. And they loved her. ~
~ What makes Nava so extraordinary is her soul. She is my soul dog. Truly. She is. She is my grounding rod. My stability. She is the place I rest my spirit, often as I lay myself on top of her. She is that big. And strong. And she can hold the weight of me, both my body and my heart. Held by her body and her soul. Excerpt from I Love My Dog—12.12.2022 ~
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply.
Mother, Wife, Friend, Sister, Daughter, Dancer, Rower, Runner, Dog and Cat lover.