Reading harold_maude's journal

I wrote this in memory of Daisy, my best friend. She was only a dog in body, but she had the heart of a human. She was the best, and now after about 5 years I can finally look at her pictures and grieve.

So this is in her honor. It's not enough, it will never be enough to say thank you to a friend who was a beauitful gift.

Daisy passed away
last night.
She lay her head
gently down
her eyes weary
she looked at me
one last time,
sighed a quiet good-by
the closed her eyes
and simply left.
I could feel her heart cease
the warm of her still lingering.
My tears
washed her face
and to her sweet head
I gave a final kiss.
Her life was full
beautiful
and simple.
She loved the quiet hours
we would spend
so close
no words really needed
the bond of love
so strong between us.
Just a simple look
told more
held more
than words
could ever capture.
Her joy
still runs through my heart.
Her smile
often filled her eyes.
She knew no malice
held no bitter thoughts
only love
and devotion
so complete
that it amazed me so often.
The times we were apart
were hardest for her.
But our reunions
ohhhhhh thoes sweet renunions
were always as the first meeting.
Daisy died last night.
But only in body.
Her faithful care
was always there.
She could read me
and always knew
when I was sad
or out of sorts.
She was my friend
companion
trusted confidant.
There was no one else like her.
No one else at all.
I have my regrets.
That I didn't take more pictures,
that I didn't spoil her more.
I should have.
I didn't say thank you enough
to this most faithful of friends.
And I should have.
Daisy died last night.
I think a part of me
did too.

It only looks that way because your standing on your head.

Your 'oh so beautiful' poem captures what I think you wanted it to... and I am sure that Daisy hears you and knows that your thoughts are with her. Animals are so easy to love, because they are generally nothing BUT, even when life throws them a curveball. They almost have to be trained to be hateful. It's in their nature to be full of love.

My heart is with you in your time of grief, for I know that losing a pet is like losing a family member, because they are family members. When my cat Alice died when I was a little girl, I wasn't over it for a long time. I don't think that I still am. I still miss her, but the memories have softened into smiles.

I never felt close to dogs until I met one of my friend's pets. The first dog of his that I met was a collie who was just nothing but sweetness. When she died, I was on the phone with him the week before, asking him to let me know how she was doing. I cried when she passed over to the other side. His other dog finally stole my heart too, and when his house almost burned down, she almost went with it. She was too smart to come in for the night though... don't dogs and cats just have a sixth sense?

I saw her last week for the first time since the fire, and she never jumps but, she did this time... a little. And I laughed and fell on the floor with her, which I don't tend to do. I let her smooch all over me, and kept coming back to rub her belly. I told her that I was so glad that she had the foresight to stay outside the night of the fire.

Reading your poem and the post "I miss you" makes it even more clear to me just how much unconditional love pets give. It makes me appreciate more the dog in my life that is alive.

You have been blessed with eight years of knowing Daisy. And I am sure that she knows how much you love her. I hope the beautiful memories of enjoying her company outlive the pain of losing her. My thoughts are with you.

If mountain goats like living at high elevations, why do none live in high rise apartment buildings?

Thank you. It's funny how for 5 years I hadn't been able to look at any of the few pictures I have of her without falling completely apart.

But this last month so many things happened, most of it not so good, and then after a long conversation with a cousin of mine whose dad passed away about 3 months ago, the time for grieving came.
I've lost alot of people over the last ten years. My new years resoultion is now that I pray to get through the year without another death that comes home.
Someday that resoultion will be true, but death has touched me in someway for these past ten years.

Of all of the people I've lost, her death was the hardest.
I really do think she was a human in a dogs body. She was just too human to not be human.
She would catch mice and carry them in her mouth and then put them down and let them go. It was almost like she was trying to be a mom to those little creatures.
She wouldn't eat bones the way dogs normally do. Every time we tried to give her one, she would smell it and then turn her head away.
It was as if she couldn't bring herself to feed on another animal.

I do believe that animals have several extra senses. There was this one afternoon I went to visit a friend of mine that lived about an hour away, and my daughter was home from school at the time.
Daisy was sitting on her couch and my daughter said at about 5 in the evening Daisy sat up and started looking out the window.
She stayed there until she saw me drive in the driveway, and then came to the door to meet me.

She would talk, not barking talk but something different, she would carry on conversations with me, and in her language the "words" had very distinct and varied sounds and inflections.
I know when I would talk to her in her language she would seem to understand what I was saying and then reply and wag her tail and get very excited.

When she got sick, she kept her dignity until the very end, and as it progressed it got harder and harder for her to come up the back stairs from being in the yard when she had to potty.
But she would look at me and make her way up for me.

It's ok now to feel the pain, and let the tears flow. No one here says that I can't and everyone has been understanding about my needing to talk about her, and they've been very ok with seeing me with tears streaming down my face. They don't run or look away, as sometimes happens when people around people who are grieving.
There is no discomfort about this for anyone here.
And for that I am greatful.
It makes it like a big blanket that I can wrap myself up in and let the pain flow out.

I believe she can hear me, and I believe she's happy. I'm looking forward to the time when I can see her again.
When that happens I'm pretty sure we'll have lots to talk about.

Thank you again my friend.

It only looks that way because your standing on your head.

When you talk about grieving after the fact, grieving after years and years have gone by... it hits home.

People these days seem to think that the grieving process only runs in a set order, but if they truly read Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's treatise On Death and Dying, they'd realize that those are only guidelines. Nothing is set in stone. Sometimes the grief is too painful to bear at the time of the loss... and so it is. You've finally found the place in which you can grieve.

I remember when I lost my mother that people told me if I was still grieving in two weeks, then I should see a counselor. That sounds like a culture that can't deal with death. I couldn't stuff it down like that. For two months after her death I wore nothing but black, with the exception of blue jeans. black tops, black shoes, black purses, black costumes at work... I know she would have preferred that I wear colors and celebrate life, but going into mourning the way people used to do decades ago, was where my head was at. I considered it an honor to remember her by...

But then I was also busy punishing myself in oh so many ways... one of them you already know about. Another involved destroying my long, beautiful hair. I felt bad that I didn't think to have it cut and made into a wig for her... but, I also didn't think that her watching me destroy it by overdying and having it thinned made her sad. Torturing myself for not having seen her misery, only made her suffer more. And to add to all of that, I had forgotten, until last night, that I used to punch myself in the stomach on a regular basis.

If, as some theories state, we have a second primitive brain in the abdominal region (i.e., the phrase that comes from that: I felt it in my gut...), then I was sort of punching myself in the head. :/ Last night, after spending the evening with a friend, and falling asleep holding hands... I felt my stomach jump. It wasn't butterflies, because a memory of me hitting myself in the stomach came back. I had forgotten that I did that. For a second I began to cry, feeling so sorry for myself that I had done such things...then, I realized that I don't do that anymore, and that all of the things that I did like that that scared people away from me, are pretty much gone.

I credit that to two things: my mantra practice and the fact that, apparently, somewhat like your dog Daisy, I am finding it very hard to eat meat these days. I seem to have inadvertantly purchased all of my frozen foods as vegetarian entrees, and gotten seriously into fruits and things like wheatgrass (which I thought would be yucky, but it just tastes like eating frozen peas from the bag, which I have always loved). It's not that I don't eat meat, it's just that I don't feel driven to have it... it sort of just happens, when it does, and I enjoy it for the time, and I am done. The last time I gave up meat, it was a more conscious choice... and it did wonders for me.

Back to Daisy, I think you may be very, very right that she was like an old soul in dog form. Maybe, that was part of her path to learn to love unconditionally, cause we all know it is the rare dog who doesn't love unconditionally...and usually it's one that has been abused, because their nature is to love.

If mountain goats like living at high elevations, why do none live in high rise apartment buildings?