Fifteen or so years ago, I informed my husband what I wanted for my 40th birthday -- a Boston Terrier puppy. I'd grown up with a Boston and, when I met Mark, the first thing that bonded us was the fact that he had two Bostons. A year later, we found out that his male Boston was the father of my Boston. Meant to be? I think you can safely say we were a match made in Heaven.
So, with my 40th on the horizon ( in 1999), I told him that was what I expected -- didn't want jewelry or a trip. I wanted a Boston Terrier. Mark being Mark, though, decided to ignore my timetable and, on Christmas morning, 1997, I got a big surprise in a tiny package. I named him Spencer after Princess Diana who had died (on my birthday) just a few months before.
Today, after a long, happy and fun-filled life, Spencer has left us. Blind and getting more feeble by the day, we knew it was a matter of time. But, as we've always done, we waited until we knew it was time to let go. This morning, I heard him crying -- if it wasn't him, it was a guardian angel letting me know that the day had arrived. I called Mark, then cradled Spencer in my arms, telling him he could go, that we'd be okay. I think, at some point today, he would have lost his battle on his own, but we just couldn't watch him do it.
So, now Stewart's Royal Spencer is getting a pat from Princess Diana, is diving in a pool (one of his favorite things) and is romping with Butler, Darcy, Casey and Dax and, best of all, he can see again. I just know he can.
As I've always said, only half-jokingly, "if there are no dogs in Heaven, I'm not going..."
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As an aspiring writer, I blog about whatever happens to move me at the moment -- though some posts contain serious content, my big-picture goal is to bring a little humor into an often humorless world! Welcome, y'all, and make yourself at home! Please make sure you update your bookmarks!
When you are offended at any man's fault, turn to yourself and study your own failings. Then you will forget your anger...Epictetus