Friday, January 18, 2019

All dogs go to Heaven



At least that's what I believe.

Mini passed quietly away on December 5th.



She had been failing to the point where she wasn't enjoying life anymore and we knew it was time.

When she went to Heaven, she was lying in her favorite chair, with her head in my lap and John by my side, as the vet gave her the gift of forever without pain.

She was 13 years old.



That's a long time to have a dog in your life and I'm thankful for it.

I'm not sure I've ever shared her story...

We had just moved into the first house in Ohio. Annie had gone for a walk with Shiloh and somewhere along the way, a little puppy had joined them.

We had two dogs at the time and I didn't want another one, but she wiggled her way right into my heart after finding out how she ended up at our house.

You see, we asked around the neighborhood and some people told us that the neighbor down the street had a habit of buying puppies for his daughter while she was visiting him during the summer and when she would leave he'd let the puppy go.

We went to the house to confront him, but he wouldn't answer the door.

The garage was open and there was the leash tied to a pole.

She had no water or food.

That did it.

She was ours.



I called her Mini, because she looked like a miniature version of Shiloh.

Now, she's in Heaven with her brother, Shiloh

and her sister, Fluffy.


Some of you might remember them from my last blog.

I tried to find a picture I had of all three of them together on a chair, but sadly it's missing. 

Maybe it'll turn up one day.



Anyway, I'm thankful she found us and had a good life where she was loved and taken care of.

John loved her so much, he hung her collar on the Christmas tree as a remembrance.


Bubba was heart broken for a while, but he seems much better now and I've stopped looking for her under the kitchen table or in the living room, but I still go to hand her a treat when we're eating sometimes.

But I'm sure that'll stop eventually, just like the tears did.

Well, until I sat down to write this post.



When I brought her ashes home from the vet right before Christmas, I talked to her all the way home about how it was the last time she had to go for a car ride and that she was in a better place.




When I got home, I kissed her little box and placed her with Shiloh, Fluffy and another sister of theirs, named Hildy, that none of them knew in life.



All of their ashes will be put with me when it's my time.

It makes me feel better knowing that we'll all be together one day.



xo
rue