yes, this young-looking 12-year-old dog,
the only one remaining of my original hounds,
and my bestfriend is gone.
Sweepy died before noon today in our house Heaven
after a long bout with kennel cough.
I was with him all night
holding his soft purring body,
praying for pain-free goodbye
and telling each other
it is never goodbye
and that we will meet each other again
in a place that is never locked in pain
and old age or cancer
but in our euphoric spirit form.
How does one move on?
How do we grieve and let go?
When Sweepy died this morning
I personally wrapped his still form,
closed those gorgeous eyes
that looked at me all night
and watched his keeper cry.
We buried him underneath the trees Yvon and Chicky
where his family Sumo and Bogart were buried.
We lighted candles and prayed.
Then I have to do the painful task
of informing his friends on FB
thanking each and every kind soul
reaching out with kind words
and loving condolences . . .
People think I was home moping in grief
but there is no time for moping.
I have to clean and wash Heaven
removing traces of the superdog
on the walls, the floors, the chairs,
washed his pillows and blankets
and putting order back to my Heaven
so the others can move on
with clean energies and spaces.
Our adopted dogs Kizu and Hughes
and cats Petrocelli, Petra and Petrine
and I were in a daze
like we stopped from a whirling dance
and the music goes on and on.
We will dance again.
We will mope and grieve
but we will hear the music again
and we will learn to dance again.
My superdog is not really gone
he just went ahead
to where we shall meet again
in another heaven . . .
For my Sweepy
March 18, 2002 - January 8, 2015