Robin has come here to live.
Robin has come here to die.
Robin is some sort of bulldog mix. She has had I don't know how many litters of puppies. She has a terrible limp. She has a scar around her neck from being chained. Her ribs are sticking out.
And she has cancer. About four months to live, according to the vet.
My son's young lady love wants her to know what happiness is before she dies, and I think she already has it figured out.
Happiness is curling up in a chair in the family room and getting your tummy scratched.
Happiness is regular meals.
Happiness is a fenced-in backyard where you can run with the other dogs and feel free but safe.
Happiness is batting at Mom's arm when she's reading to make sure Mom doesn't forget you for one second, and you don't get in trouble for wanting attention.
Happiness is getting into Mom's bed at night and cuddling up as close to Mom as you can get.
I named her Robin because it is still spring. Summer will arrive soon, but right now, at this moment, it is still spring and the robins return in the spring.
So Robin has come to us during the spring. We will see her through the summer and care for her and give her all the love she wants and needs.
Then when fall arrives and it is time for the dying that precedes winter, we will see Robin through her death and we will make sure the death is as calm and gentle as possible.
Robin, you are loved.
Robin, this is what happiness is.
I am so glad you are here.
oh how very sweet. you deserve every happiness that life can offer, for being such a kind soul even after others have treated you so badly.ReplyDelete
Robin, too. :)
The saddest thing about that post was knowing it was written over a year ago. Hell of a thing you did, knowing the outcome ahead of time and all.ReplyDelete
Mr. Fox, It ended very badly and very sadly.ReplyDelete
I expected that, but I'm still sorry to hear it.ReplyDelete