We move forward, one step and then stall, then take more steps and then pause to remember all she was and how quickly her exit left us feeling lost.
There were hawkers of dog paraphernalia and more than a few rescue groups giving out stale dog bones that Jade refused to eat. We met up with our Greyhound rescue group and met Rogue, Felicia, CiCi and Georgio. Butt sniffing was shared and we felt we had reached our maximum threshold of fun and toddled home.
As evening began to show her reach, we took Omi's ashes and twelve red roses down to the creek walk to scatter what was once a red tornado amongst the leaves and the end of a warm October day. Something about it felt right and something about it felt all wrong as I come to terms with these weeks of my plans for a few more years with both Greyhounds as I patch myself together after a long dry spell.
Rituals are important to me and especially in marking the death of one so close. Omi loved the creek walk we do every morning and I thought of her bouncy walk, kind of built like Wendy the Whippet http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FEOoCiq16g There has not been a day that I haven't looked outside on the patio dog beds for Omi, our polar girl who loved to sleep outside in the cold. There will be more of those days to come as we come to terms with the ashes of this evening.
