The Native Americans have a saying It is a good day to die. I woke up Friday morning with that saying in my head. I had to go look it up as I had forgotten its origin. Friday was the day we had scheduled Dr. Caffrey to come and euthanize Shunka so it was a fitting thing to flit through my head as it was his day to die and it was a good day. How hard that is to consider, to say and to do. It is not something one does casually. Time has been working against Shunka. He had grown worse with his walking and was having issues getting up and down it and frustrated him. He was staggering, crab walking and falling and he was afraid on occasions. It was his fear that really made me make the decision. Living in fear is not living. At any rate, Dr Caffrey arrived and calmly helped Shunka out of his pain and into the other world. It was painful for us before, during, and after, but Shunka is in a better place and we are returning to normal after months of not normal. I find I need to walk, and walk. My healing. I have rewalked our last walks and there are tracks and tracks, and memories. The tracks will disappear in time, the memories fade, but still will remain. He is here in spirit along with all our other four footed. His ashes will return and I shall spread them under all his many evergreens. That makes me happy and teary. We are learning to live with the big empty and we will adjust as we will move on to whatever comes next.
