GPS for the Soul
Thank you for coming into my life when I needed you most, trying the various people and places on for size right alongside of me, and being my true companion for all these years.
GPS for the Soul
We may be barking up the wrong tree, but don't we need a paid pet grieving leave?
Home & Living
Prevention goes a long way when it comes to our pets. If you take a little time to get your pet ready for the season, all you'll have to stress about is clearing enough space on your phone to snap photos of your weekend warrior.
GPS for the Soul
Bootsy was a trusted companion and friend. He was patient, tolerant and loved unconditionally. I believe, what he inspired in me the most is a reverence and respect for all of creation, and the understanding that we are truly all connected.
I've been trying to find something to compare the horror that I feel; some other life experiences people go through that tear their souls out, that rip their heart literally out of their chest so they simply don't want to live.
When you take an animal into your life, you are signing up for heartbreak. If all goes according to nature, you will experience an entire life cycle in years rather than decades. When that beloved being dies, everything changes.
The more time I spend hearing families' personal stories, the more I see that each pet serves a unique purpose at a point in our lives, a task that defines their all-too-brief time on Earth. Oftentimes we don't even recognize that task until the moment has already passed.
I know most people don't mean harm when they say "it's just a dog." But I have to feel these people are missing out on a lot of beautiful things in life, like just another sunset, just another first snow or just another friend.
I ask that you not grieve for the loss, but rejoice in the fact that we lived, loved and touched each others lives. My life
Although each pet owner had his or her own poignant story to tell, the overall message was clear: You are not alone. There are lots of us who have been devastated by the loss of a hairy loved one.
Lola taught me how to handle adversity and Lucy taught me how to love unconditionally. Lola taught me to laugh and Lucy taught me to cry. She taught me that it's okay to love someone so much that when they finally die, you feel that your heart is broken.
At the highest metaphysical level, my teacher was right: It takes no effort to be free. But interestingly enough, this spiritual freedom is of little help to me now as I face one of the most challenging decisions of my life. As life is so full of paradox, so is enlightenment.
This afternoon, my dog will leave this world in my arms without pain, with my lipstick kiss on her mature Maltese mane. Tonight, when it is late and dark and time to sleep, I will feel her presence beside me.
Live Better America
Holidays and birthdays ramp up our happiness expectations to often unattainably high levels: to happiness with an uppercase "H" befitting the greeting card stanzas. When the tinsel and streamers come down, it's only understandable that our happiness meters need resetting. Our return to routine is a chance to recommit to everyday happiness and grab it in its lowercase forms.
It is clear that, come the time, I will do the right thing by my Scout. My baby. I will not let her suffer. We are told that we love our animals so much, we know when that moment is upon us. And we do the right thing. But how?
Some people who write about their pets really write about their pets -- and they do it in a way that speaks to the hearts of other humans who have also had significant interspecies relationships.
I believe five pounds of fur and love taught me more about life than my bookshelf of self-help books.
When I was 26 I had the perfect boyfriend. Big, strong, loving, caring, attentive, and always around. Happy to curl up on the bed next to me while I read a book. Okay, so he was an Airedale, is there something wrong with that? No downside at all as far as I was concerned.