On Friday 19th July, we had to say goodbye to our sweet and gentle soul, Rogue, our dog of over 15 years. He came into our life as a gift from my stepdaughter and son-in-law and he was indeed a gift. A rescue between one and two years old at the time, he was an absolute charmer, friendly with everyone and, for a few years, a regular digger-under-the-fence so he could visit and play with the neighbour's dog, Blue. I like to think that now they can both play together to their hearts' content.

I saved Rogue's dog tag to put on my purse. I've cried many tears. I still listen for his claws clacking along the downstairs floors, I still wait for him to know that I'm home and to come up to me , his tail swishing (his hearing and sight were failing), I still look for him most mornings and when I arrive home, as I watch TV. Both Rob and I find that we still open the front door cautiously in case he's sleeping behind it and can't get up immediately. Pets are family, often more constant on a daily basis in our lives than many family.  So it's hard but we were very lucky to have Rogue in our lives and certainly for as long as we did. 

While making the decision to take Rogue to the vets one last time, I worked on a rainbow bridge prism for one of my writer friends who had lost his dog of 15 years only a month before and another prism for the lady from Kitty Kare, Cindy, who had asked me if i would make the prisms as a fundraiser for them. She had lost one of her cats that same week. Working on those prisms was strangely comforting. And i offered to 'buy'  Cindy's prism for her so when she found out about Rogue, she offered in turn to 'buy' one for me and encouraged me to make it. That's what I'm going to do today. She also gave me a lovely card and taped the following message inside. Of course it made me cry. Of course it's absolutely true.

In brighter news, Rob and I went to an evening wedding on Monday. Rob's good friend, Bob, was getting married. His 72nd birthday was the same day and his fiancee's 70th birthday was also the same day. Despite a gusty wind which continually blew down the white plastic chairs, we were able to have the ceremony outside surrounded by the gorgeous Nor'Western mountains (hills) and in a pretty garden area. Carried across the lawn by the warm breeze was the song "What The World Needs Now (Is Love Sweet Love)" as Lauretta the bride walked down the aisle. The whole wedding was completely heartwarming and delightful. 

Loving a being of any kind, even ourselves, seems like such a brave thing to do, but without it, without taking the risk, where would we be? Had I not taken the risk, I would have missed out on 15 years shared with one of my very best friends.

May your today and your tomorrows be overflowing with love. 

I'm so fortunate to have several consecutive days off dotted with a few plans here and there but mainly days that I can mold to my own liking.  A new online art course that I'm taking, Ever After (follow the link to find out more. It focuses on fairy tales and emphasises personal style development) will take up some of that time as will another online course, The Art of Intuitive Tarot offered through Daily Om which I'm finding wildly fascinating. I'm still continuing with Moonshine and A Year of Rumi both offered by Effy Wild. Again, both courses that I love. So there will be dashes of Rumi and Moonshine in my days and evenings, too.  Such wonders. Below is last month's A Year of Rumi painting with its beautiful quote.

Since my last post, Dane and Jonathan have come and been and gone again and Dad has had his yard sale. His house is now an echoing shell of the home it was. I imagine holding it to my ear like a seashell and hearing tides of laughter, tears and the sand shifts of the essence of everyday life as Mam and Dad lived their lives together there. The wonders of years passed and lives lived and breathed.

I didn't see as much of Dane and Jonathan this time but the time we spent together was special and moving. As we all helped with yard sale sorting, I was pleased to see Dane choosing to take some sentimental items. I found the wooden leaf I had made when I was 15 in England. It had graced the coffee table in Mam and Dad's home for years and now sat on a table marked $1. I snatched it up immediately. It feels right that I have it, moreso than most of the other things from the house except for Mam's urn, a couple of brass bells and Mam's wedding and engagement rings.

​Early on Saturday morning,  Rob and I drove to Dad's to see if he, Sandy and Robyn, Sandy's daughter, needed any help with the yard sale. I know it had been difficult for dad and he had started getting grumpy and moody about it. But as people came at a gentle pace, he loosened up. Sandy and Robyn and Rob dealt with the sales. After an hour or so Rob and I decided to leave. We chatted with Dad in the driveway. I noticed what looked like a post it note at the end of the driveway. As I fastened my seatbelt, Dad wandered over to the post it note and picked it up. He smiled then brought it over to me.  Not a post it note after all. But a note nonetheless.

"It has the mark of Cleveland on it. It's from Britain,"  he said. "And look at the picture."

Indeed, look at the picture.

No coincidences. I took it as a sign from Mam that she was good with everything that was going on and that she was close by.

Dad has sorted through totes and clothes and much of what was left has gone to storage or up to Sandy's in Shebandowan ready for the rest of the summer and for their honeymoon in Britain in September and for Florida in the fall.  The house will be officially sold at the end of July. Although I had little attachment to the house overall, it will feel like the closing of a tome, a tome that, unbeknownst to me, still had a couple of  chapters unwritten.

But I love the wonderment of this ending.