A reprise from a year ago when my pup, Rusty, passed over:
I had a heavy heart this morning and out of habit I got dressed and prepared to go outside. Until yesterday this was my morning ritual; my walk with Rusty. It didn’t matter to him whether it was sunny, raining, snowing, hot or cold.
We had to say goodbye to Rusty yesterday after 16 years of being together. In honor of his memory I decided to continue my walk this morning, but not just any walk. I decided to retrace the steps I have taken so many times before with him; I revisited his favorite places.
I cried. I laughed. My heart broke again and was healed a little when the sunlight broke through just like it did when he died yesterday. I think it will be this way for a very long time.
On my solitary walk the main thing that struck me was that Rusty was not one for sticking to the walking paths. He went his own way. And at the time I would get so frustrated with him because he would drag me over slippery patches of ice, knee-deep snow, ankle-deep mud, through puddles and weeds and high water. And it didn’t really hit me until today that the paths, while easy to navigate, and safer, don’t always hold the wonders of what lies just beyond. And I smiled because I realized that my little dog was still teaching me things.
I can only imagine what led Rusty off the paths to the magic and joy he found there, or if he really found anything at all. Maybe it was just a “dog thing”. I don’t know.
But it did make me think, and when I take the time to think I usually end up writing one of these…