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<\/a>was alert and responsive to the end. \u00a0She died knowing we loved her and in the crate she knew as her safe place.<\/p>\n(Kona)<\/p>\n
We cried, both of us. \u00a0Yes, in spite of an end obvious long ago, the actual loss still opens a chasm between the living dog and the dead one. \u00a0That chasm represents the never will agains. \u00a0And those made me cry. \u00a0I would never again feel her nuzzle into my hand. \u00a0Never again see her smile. \u00a0Never again see her run the trails in our woods.<\/p>\n
Her corpse no longer retained her; it was a symbol now, not a reality. \u00a0This is a wonder to me. \u00a0When I spoke with her about a half hour before she died, she looked at me, put her nose in my palm, caressed me with her muzzle. \u00a0Kona was 100% there. \u00a0Then, she was gone. \u00a0The light left her eyes and her body no longer moved.<\/p>\n
The wonder is this, that life has a magic about it, seen most clearly after it is lost. \u00a0That (Rigel, Gertie, Kona)<\/p>\n Life is a miracle, ordinary in its profusion and ordinary as long it exists, yet when it has gone, then we know. \u00a0So, each death gives us a moment to reflect on the precious gift we have. \u00a0The one carrying us forward into tomorrow. \u00a0A gift others give to us, too. \u00a0Each death is an opportunity to affirm and celebrate life and living.<\/p>\n Kona’s father was a whippet champion named Drum. \u00a0When we picked up Hilo and Kona from the breeder, the puppies and the parents were watching Animal Planet. \u00a0We brought them home and they began a series of escapes from the property, going under the chain link fence in pursuit of prey or delight, often both.<\/p>\n We held them on our laps when they were young. \u00a0Hilo would squirm, sit up, stretch, jump down. \u00a0Kona, the much larger of the two, would lie quietly, happy to be there. \u00a0 In her early days Kona was a predator. \u00a0I remember one day Kona came up on the deck, dropped something there, then ran back out into the woods. \u00a0The something was the still warm and clear eyed head of an adult rabbit. \u00a0Why she brought it to the deck I don’t know. \u00a0 Over a long period Kona would kill rabbits and we would pick up the dead rabbits, put them in a plastic bag and dispose of them. \u00a0This never deterred Kona. \u00a0She just kept at it.<\/p>\n Hilo died three years ago of kidney failure and was never much of a hunter. \u00a0She liked to be with her people. \u00a0Kona kept to her self, finding places to sit nearby, sometimes with us, often not. \u00a0She kept her own counsel and determined what her day would be like, pretty much independent of us.<\/p>\n After her death this morning, I went out into the garden and sat on one of the raised (Vega and Kona)<\/p>\n Kona had privileges the other dogs didn’t. \u00a0She would go with me into the garden, mainly because we could count on her not to dig holes in the garden beds. \u00a0She would also be outside on our brick patio with us because we could count on her to stay around the house.<\/p>\n She has been part of our lives for 12 plus years, as real and regular a part of our lives as we are to each other. \u00a0True she was a dog, but as a companion and fellow traveler on this pilgrimage she was with us, part of our pack as we were part of hers.<\/p>\n We travel on now with one less pilgrim immediately in our presence, yet at the same time, the whole pack with us, all 17 dogs, two parents and two sons. \u00a0Amen.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Summer \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Moon of the First Harvests Kona died this morning. \u00a0Both Kate and I spent time with her just before she died. \u00a0She … Continue reading Kona<\/span> <\/a>which was Kona was there, then not. \u00a0Yes, her memories live on, that’s true. \u00a0But Kona does not. \u00a0The personality, the somewhat aloof I’m living life as I intend to personality of the sighthound, has vanished. \u00a0Just like that.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a>beds. \u00a0Gardens heal. \u00a0Surrounded by life and life producing food, the cycle of life was concrete. \u00a0Kona fit into this cycle. \u00a0 It helped me remember that at some point the light in my eyes will go out, too. \u00a0And, more. \u00a0That will be fine, it will fit into this cycle.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n