In 2014, Paris had passed away and I was heartbroken. With the exception of Opal, no borzoi loved me more.

Back in 2011, Frances Wright made me a generous offer…. The gift of a lovely borzoi pup very much in the style of Opal.  Sadly, life got in the way and I was unable to accept her offer.

Now, years later, I needed to fill the void in my empty heart.  I took a leap of faith.  I made a call to Frances Wright and was thrilled to find that she was still willing to give me the now fully grown and must beautiful borzoi, “Jelly”.  I was overwhelmed with gratitude  because these beautiful dogs and their breeders, especially Frances Wright, have become like famly.

Jelly made a beautiful adjustment to my home and added an aura of peace and beauty.  She was sweet and loving to everyone she met, and she was especially fond of children.  Many people got to know her on our walks.  I am grateful for those special years I had her.  I know she was happy.  

Sadly, one day, I learned during a routine check up, Jelly had developed chylothorax, a canine respiratory disease that is usually fatal.  I did not feel the recommended surgery was appropriate for an eight year old dog and we treated it symptomatically by tapping her chest and draining fluid.  Jelly never complained and she was always brave.  She never showed me any outward sigh of being ill and lived solely for my happiness.  I had begun to feel, during her last years with me, that somehow, Opal had come home to me, that Jelly’s qualities were exactly the same as Opal’s would have been had she lived.  I grew to love Jelly deeply.  I ended her suffering in April 2019, and like what happened after the death of Opal, I went into a deep depression and had to pull myself out of it again, alone.    If only I had someone to love me in my life, but I do not.  I am alone and will be alone forever.  The only love I have in my life is the love I have for my dogs, and the love my dogs bestow upon me.

When Jelly died, I eulogized her on Facebook and in Blyss Blog.  It follows.

It is with the heaviest of hearts that I share the sad news of Jelly’s passing today. She fought a brave fight for one year with chylothorax, submitting to procedures multiple times. Always brave and stoic, she was a great actress for putting on a healthy face, as if to say, “See, Mommy, I’m just fine!”. But I saw her as she struggled to cross a small field to reach me, and turned away so not to embarass her for taking so long. I also saw her trying to stalk and hunt little animals but not be able to make the charge and pounce, and could only imagine what she must have thought….. I had always turned away by then so she would not know I knew she failed. We had perfect communication, without words, and I knew she was far worse than she seemed. The vet let me be with her when she passed. He had a beautiful red velvet blanket to give her to lie on. He took one last picture of us together on it. When she passed, she looked as if she were just resting there, looking very beautiful, with no sign of illness anywhere. She died with her splendid beauty intact. Somehow, feeling friendless and robbed, I must find a way to go on without her. Heaven has a brighter star for having Jelly in it. Dear God, please let me find it to guide me home.