We sit together in the cool summer morning. Finally, a respite from humid heat. I am not complaining. But the cool feels good.
You blink against the brightness and keep turning to meet my eyes. I blink back. You chose the sun, I chose the shade. I close my eyes. You close yours.
I know you can’t hear the sound of a lawnmower in the distance, or the warbles, or the leaves dancing on branches. But you seem content just to be here with me and sense them.
Your heart has grown so large, my friend, that it has become hard for you to carry alone. There comes a time for each of us when our love outgrows our bodies. Don’t fear this. It’s just a natural part of life.
Can you see that spider web? Its delicate strength? See how it holds on against the wind? How it shimmers in the sun and disappears in the shade? We are like that web. We need light to see and be seen or we disappear into the shadows.
You are like a spider’s web, dear one, holding on against all odds, filled up with love. You have no shadows in you. You are as pure as pure is pure, so I know, for almost certain, that all good dogs go to heaven.
Feature Photo: Aaron Burden, aaronburden.com Unsplash