How I Deal With A Departed Dog


Like many of you, I know how devastating the loss of a beloved dog can be.  I still mourn the loss of Mugger, whose cancer mandated euthanasia years ago, and I rarely think of his loss without a sob.  He was so very, very special.


I've come up with what for me is the best way to deal with a beloved dog's death.  I have the dog cremated and get the cremains back.  Then I go to my favorite plant nursery and buy a new large bush or tree.  After I dig the hole in just the right place in my yard, I mix the dog's ashes in with the fertilizer and amendments for the plant. Then I plant the new bush or tree.


This gives me two major benefits.  First, with his or her very last act on Earth, the dog I so loved contributed to LIFE.  Second, in a way they're still with me.  As I walk around my yard, at the jacaranda I say: "Hi, Bimbo!"  At an orange tree it's: "Hey, Shadia!"  Baron gets greeted when I see the Liquid Amber.  So they're all still with me because they helped bring life to the plants in my - their - yard.


This is especially beneficial if the plant bears fruit.  No orange ever tasted as sweet as an orange from the tree Shadia helped to grow.  Wherever you live, there are trees that will do well that bear some sort or fruit, nut or flower.  How good if that beloved departed dog can be thanked with every lime, avocado, or grapefruit that you enjoy from now on!


Do it this way, and you'll get to love them forever - just as I do.



A Dog's Plea


Treat me kindly, my beloved friend, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me. Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me learn.


Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear. Please take me inside when it is cold and wet, for I am a domesticated animal no longer accustomed to bitter elements. I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger.


And, my friend, when I am very old and I no longer enjoy good health, hearing and sight, do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I am not having any fun. Please see that my trusting life is taken gently. I shall leave this earth knowing that my fate was always safest in your hands.

Bereavement

“The one best place to bury a good dog is

in the heart of her master…" author unknown