I have come to believe that our pets have their own form of magic. It’s a magic so total, so complete, and so seemingly ordinary that it explains everything.
Life is simple to a pet. There are sunbeams, there are pigs ears, there are balls to chase, and there is a human. A human they do not see as a frail and imperfect being – no, for them, their human is the best and most goodness filled thing in the world.
And so we try and live up to that. We live in the moment with them. We watch sunbeams, we throw balls and we rub ears and bellies. We ll them by silly names and laugh.
It is Missy’s time. Tonight at 4 I will take her to the vet and say goodbye. My voice, telling her that she was good and true and loved will be the last thing she hears. I will walk with her to the very end. And it will break me, like it has every time.
She didn’t need fourscore and 10 to be perfect. She me perfect. And like all magic things in this dull and sorry world of ours, she could never stay for long. She stayed for as long as she could. It is time to let her go. We must be mindful of magic, we must not keep it past its time.
And when I bring her no longer needed collar and lead home, when I wash out her food bowl and put it away, I will think that if I am very good, if I try very hard, when my much longer life ends, then I will have picked up a bit of her magic.