Thinking of my best mate who has passed, Geronimo. He was a 115lbs. black German Shepard with a white tuft of hair in the shape of a star on his chest. I was gifted him on a rode trip when I was 18 years old and he died 3 years ago while I was in RI celebrating Christmas with my family.
I had left him at a new kennel, close to work so I could pick him up as soon as possible when we got back into town. I remember that ominous morning. I was frustrated that I had to drive him out in the snow, he wanted to walk more, hug more and he cried when I dropped him off at the kennel. I had this funny feeling inside as they took him away and the kennel supervisor made me feel silly for worrying about him. I tried to leave a toy for him, but she said no! I reminded her that he can get very nervous being in a kennel and to please pay close attention to him. I remember that soft look he would gave me when I left him, I should have listened to that voice inside me that said DO NOT LEAVE!
The phone call came the day after Christmas. She said he had died. I was broken and guilt ridden. What had happened to him? She didn't know they found him in the morning.
So it feels awkward to walk alone, to not hear the barking, to not get the sloppy kisses. The last couple of years having Geronimo was a challenge. Our apartments were older, smaller and we needed to spend the extra money for a yard. He had lime disease as a puppy and the damage to his nervous system which made him edgy, loud and nervous quite often. He shed and was messy. We even talked about finding him a new home for the last years of his life. I had this magical fantasy that he could be running on a farm in the country chasing squirrels and little creatures as fast a he could. Swimming in a lake--one of his favorite pastimes, hiking the mountains, biting the water spraying out of a hose, beg for scraps of meat, lazing next to a good friend on his side as you rubbed his chest and head. He loved sleeping in the bed, licking my face, looking tenderly in my eyes, saving me from deep depression after a breakup, traveling cross country in my Dodge Neon many times. I used to joke that in a past life we were mates because he was furiously jealous and protective as he would look wounded when I had a boyfriend and would cuddle without him. So I'm posting this famous poem in remembrance of the very lucky and graced time that I spent with him.
Rainbow Bridge
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....
Author unknown...
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