I lost my birth father when I was very young, 7 years old. This sudden and tragic loss left a deep impression on me and has manifested since as a fear of losing that which I hold most dear.
I mention this as today Dee and I held our beloved Trixie as she took her last breaths and passed on, ever so gracefully and with her usual class and dignity. Reflecting on another transition, another loss, I am left amazed that the perfection of life has seen fit to call me to a life’s work that gives me the opportunity over and over to overcome this fear.
Dee and I have been part of 33 transitions since we started our work in late 2000. While some of the passings have been more difficult than others, the fact remains that each has brought me face to face with the same fear; losing something that is important to me. Now, at 46 years old, I still have a hard time with letting our babies go, and while I know intellectually that each is now free of their physical ailments and limitations, for Trixie it was an aggressive cancer, I still miss their physical presence, their personalities, their quirks, their charm. I am still learning to accept each loss as part of the divine plan, and as Dee says, the hurt is simply indication of the love we have felt, and any of our personal sadness, or even fear, is a small price to pay for the gift each angel brings to the sanctuary.
Trixie was indeed special. We were blessed to have her for 3 months, but it truly felt like she had been with us for years. She had been found abandoned at a dog park in the Bay Area and a wonderful young couple found her, searched for her family to no avail, and when they could not keep her, found their way to Linda at Wonder Dog Rescue, who in turn contacted us, and Trixie finally made her way home.
Trixie was, simply put, magnificent. Quite secure in who she was, and quick to fit in and establish a senior post in the canine leadership, she was fiercely loyal to both Dee and I, and was completely even handed in her devotion to both of us. While Harmony tends to stick with me, and Buddy with Dee, Trixie loved us equally. She always wanted to be where one or both of us were, and would want to have at least a paw on us. In fact, when we were washing dishes, folding clothes, cooking, or at the sink, she would position herself at the base of our heels, facing outward as if to protect us from any sudden danger that might lurk up from behind. I have never experienced such complete devotion, and while I know our babies each love us dearly, I think Trixie was simply very good at expressing it.
I would not have knowingly chosen this path, but I am glad that the vast majority of the significant and important choices in my life have been guided and directed by those divine forces that have the benefit of a much large vision than I.
Saying goodbye still hurts, but I at least can accept each passing as important as a birth, and know, as the poem says, that each angel is now headed to a port where others joyously await their return.
