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Hi, it’s me. I’ve missed you. I suspect you don’t miss much of anything these days. That must be a good feeling.

We lost you a month ago. And by lost I don’t mean lost, but lost. You understand. That’s how we humans convey such news. Anything more specific makes our breath catch, at least at first. To come right out and say that you died, or that we helped you die, or that the veterinarian helped you die, while we stood by reminding ourselves that it was better this way, is too much for us, too final, too hopeless. Maybe later, when we’ve had more time.  

For now, we talk about transitions and passing away. We focus on releasing you from a terrible illness that came out of nowhere and left us confused and conflicted, and thinking there might have been something more we could have done, despite how hard we tried. Damn, we really did try.

Can I admit that the whole rainbow bridge deal rings a little hollow for me? I know, it’s supposed to be comforting. For goodness’ sake, though, the idea wasn’t even born until the 80s, and it sounds like the entrance to a theme park filled with unicorns and Pomeranians. Forgive me.  

Sometimes we say you are no longer with us, but that’s just not true. You’re still here, just as I knew you would be. I saw your shape walk across the kitchen floor the other morning, and a few nights ago, I felt you jump into bed. My rational mind tells me that’s ridiculous. Science, and more than a few humans, would call it wishful thinking. I don’t care. The world is illogical most of the time. Just because it defies explanation doesn’t make it impossible, right?

And, maybe it doesn’t even really run counter to science. I mean, they say energy is neither created nor destroyed, that it simply transforms from one state to the next. So, as far as I’m concerned, that means everything that ever was or ever will be is right here, shapeshifting in and out of our readiness for understanding.

Everything. That includes you. That includes all the ancestors - the prophets, the parents, the other fuzzy friends who used to hang out with us. The people friends, too, of course, like dear Beth, whose time came on Sunday. Maybe the two of you will cross paths. You’d love her, and I know she’d adore you.

You were our last, little, four-legged love ambassador. God, I’ve missed you!  But, like all the others, I know you never really left. You just repositioned yourself at the outer edge of our perception, and waited for us to see you.

That day when you first appeared on the deck – I thought maybe it was you. So many bird friends stop there, and we have our little chats. You remember. But, we’ve never seen a dove there before. Not in all the years we’ve lived here. They’re so soft, and so - what’s the word? - humble. It seemed like the right fit. But, then there were robins and baby squirrels, rabbits and turtles, so I couldn’t be sure.

I’m glad you were willing to try again. That was a pretty good move, laying there, like a lump. I really thought you were dead, or dying. But, you were just taking a sun bath, weren’t you? And, then, when you knew you had my undivided attention, you sat up, looked around, and took away all doubt. I never thought a bird could remind me so much of a cat, but I guess you’ve always been magical like that.

I know you know more than I do, now, about how it works out, all this next dimension stuff. I’ll get there, too, some day. It’s a little scary, though, so I’d rather not talk about it right now, if that’s okay with you.

Thanks for being here. Come visit anytime, and stay well. Until we meet again…

~Elizabeth

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Chicken Scratch
Chicken Scratch
Authors
Elizabeth Beggins