I'd been thinking about Bailey the last few days as I’ve been going through some old photos, just reminiscing about Bandit, Scout, and Bailey and all the dogs in my life.

When I brought Beau home in December, everyone said he looked just like Bailey, and I knew what they were saying. Similar coloring, similar eyes. But looking at pics from over the years, I just see Bailey.

What a great dog.

A great dog with a lot of issues, who turned life upside down, but also returned the love a hundred times over.

What mostly struck me as I looked at photos was that I hadn't remembered the exact day I said goodbye to her. I knew it was coming up, or had just passed, and I felt a pang. That's not like me; I remember things like this, especially anniversaries of hurts. Why isn’t this one etched in my brain, even just for the first anniversary?

I was going to look it up, then put it off, and then this morning this email popped up in my inbox and caught me completely off guard.

Dear Brokaw Family,

We know the sorrow that comes from the passing of a cherished friend takes time to heal. Loved ones lost may not be physically with us, but they continue to live on forever in our hearts.

Although it's been a year since the passing of Bailey, we want you to know that you're in our thoughts and prayers.

Warmly,
Your Friends at Lap of Love

In Our Heart

We thought of you with love today, but that is nothing new.
We thought about you yesterday, and days before that too.
We think of you in silence. We often speak your name.
Now, all we have is memories and your picture in a frame.
Your memory is our keepsake, with which we’ll never part.
You may not be right next to us
But we have you in our hearts.

Well, that was an unexpected gut punch. I burst out crying and immediately felt guilty, for not remembering the exact day she left me, and mystified, because it feels like a million years ago; how can so much time have passed in just 365 days?

During her final two years, without Bandit and with a lot of life changes, she went downhill quickly. We took care of each other through physical and emotional pain that kept us rooted in place. When her time came it was crystal clear she was ready. When I said goodbye to her, I felt more like I was setting her free rather than losing something I needed to hang on to. Not that it made the goodbye any easier.

It’s ironic, because Beau’s having some minor digestive problems, and I’ve joked with the vet over the last few months that it makes sense that I’d get another dog with separation anxiety and a dodgy stomach. We’re getting ready to try a different food but it doesn’t help that Beau jumped the fence last week and feasted at the neighbor’s cat buffet station. Two steps forward, one step back, another round of diarrhea, another round of a bland diet and meds.

Here’s the thing. As I gave Beau his pill this morning, I actually said to him, "I’m sorry. I know you hate this. Honest, I get it. Bailey had to take bunches of pills every day, and I hated making her take them. But it's not for forever, it's just for now. We'll figure out what's wrong and you'll feel better soon. I promise."

After breakfast, Beau and I went to the pet store to get the new food; Beau picked out a new stuffie and carried it to the register and then out to the car. We stopped for a quick walk in the cemetery and then came home. He’s napping next to my chair as I write.

So maybe Bailey actually was on my mind this morning as I talked to Beau, not so much in my feeling her loss but in remembering her release and knowing she’s running free with Scout and Bandit. Beau isn’t repeating the past, he’s just getting used to his present. That thought is a gift that lets me look to the future, eyes focused on all of the possibilities with my new best friend.

********************

PS If you read this post initially via email, you surely noticed some wonky sentence formatting that was fixed during editing but mysteriously went back to the messy error when sent. I’m a firm believer that the mistakes are there to remind us that sometimes creativity is messy business, and when we’re talking about life and transformation it helps sometimes to just accept them and move on. The error has been fixed in this post.

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