by Bruce & Eleanor Mesler
Our romance began as many do, as the result of a chance encounter. Yet those of us who have had such an experience would be the last to chalk it up to mere coincidence. We are convinced that forces beyond our control have been and continue to be a powerful influence in our lives. Be that as it may, it was a crisp October day when we first met her, and it was love at first sight. Our first impression was of a flashing bundle of energy with an insatiable appetite for adventure and discovery. On the rare occasions when she didn't race past in a blur of motion, we could catch glimpses of the beauty of body and personality still to come. As she settled into our home and our hearts we could see she had just enough spirit of independence to display an occasional bit of stubbornness when she wanted her own way. Yet her loyalty and devotion to her family was never in question. We felt very secure in the knowledge she was watching out for us. With very few exceptions she liked everybody, and she was loved by all in return.
Unfortunately we don't live in a perfect world and we soon became aware of an inherited condition with the potential to markedly and progressively limit her physical activity. We tried to give her as normal a life as possible, though at times it appeared nailing pudding on a wall would be easier than getting her to slow down. She loved a good ball game but we had to be the umpires and decide when it was time to stop. Even so she enjoyed every waking moment and would be the last to go to bed at night and the first to get up in the morning. I doubt if a rooster could have done a better job of getting the day off to a rousing start.
A few short months ago with scarcely any advance warning it became obvious to us that something else was terribly wrong. The doctors told us it was another inherited condition, which by the time it could be detected and diagnosed, was already too far advanced for successful madical intervention. We made the only choice we could under the circumstances. Each of us when faced with these decisions must follow his or her own heart. For me, difficult as it was, I felt it my sacred duty to be by her side as her spirit was set free. I felt I owed her at least that much, in return for her all too few years of unconditional love for us. The arrangements were made and the farewells were said. As we sat quietly together in that mercifully empty waiting room, my thoughts drifted away to happier times. I was brought back to reality as she, ever so gently, leaned against my knee. I was convinced she was trying to comfort me. As I write these words today, I am still certain of what happened in that brief moment. Looking back through eyes still not totally dry, I can only hope she could see past the tears, and know, in that final moment just how deeply we loved her.
The last sad duty I had to do was to return her ashes to the home we had shared. Without really knowing why or how, I found myself driving to the place where we first met, before coming home that day. In some unexplainable way, that short side trip, a sort of symbolic closing of the circle, gave me a sense of closure. Yet, nothing will ever fully sever the bonds of love that hold us together. If they are strong enough to bridge the gap between species, surely they will withstand the passage of time. We will always love her, and miss her, and look forward hopefully and prayerfully to the day we will all be together in a brighter and better place.