Miss Dancer spent her morning in the sunshine out on the grass, got carried out to the barn and felt the hay breath on her face one last time. She was kissed and hugged, and told how much we loved her and would miss her until next we meet at the Bridge. Her packmates came in to her pen one by one, to greet her one last time, and to be told where she was going and why.
In Native tradition, one is supposed to live one's life so that, at the end, the soul can go to the Creator without shame. My heart dog, my soul dog, my everything dog is no more, but she has certainly approached her Creator with no shame. To many Native cultures, there is no heaven or hell, merely a spirit world where she has gone, and so we celebrate her arrival there. She was a gallant, stoic, smart, and kind dog - a shining example of what every dog could be. A leader, a helper, a farm dog, and a therapy dog - to the end.
The vet on call today has been at the practice for about four years. Dancer was her very first patient. So, it was a poignant moment for her to be the one to have to help her to the Bridge. Ever the therapy dog, Dancer raised her head at the last moment to rest it on the vet's arm. I think she wanted Dr. A. to know that she had chosen this day, and that it was fine.
We, of course, are heartbroken that the dog we have loved so well is gone. Nothing will ever be the same again. But, we know that she is with her pack at the Bridge, waiting. And, that nothing can ever break the bond of love between us. Farewell, my sweet girl, until we reunite.
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