As I look back and think of the day, July 3, 2015, it was a surprise when it happened but it was a natural event, meant to be. He has adjusted seamlessly; all is well. He is the boy who came home to stay. Yet, it occurred to me today, I missed again thinking about Opal on the anniversary of her death on July 6th. He has always been the gift I received to replace that loss, and so again he is, to stand in her place, almost nine years to the day.
I can still shed tears of loss for her life that was cut so short, so perversely unfair, so cruelly that she lost everything and I lost so much. I try to think about it differently though, of how much I had by having her, for those nineteen months. They seared a separate heart in my breast that is all hers, My Opal. She is a parallel world where I live. But it is a life of love that gives me love, that allows me to love and give love to others, especially other borzoi.
I’ve been touched by her in a way that I shall always be separate from others by having had her. She made me special and unique. I understand life as I never would have before. She was precious and rare and she was mine but mine to lose yet in memory have forever.
“May we meet again, Dearest Little One!”