Peonies in June
At three o'clock in the morning on December 21st, the darkest day of the year, my perfect, vivacious six-month-old puppy died in her sleep.
I am still wading through the stark horror of being woken up out of a deep sleep in a dark room by the sounds of my sweet baby dog taking her last breaths. It is a nightmare I would not wish on anyone who loves dogs.
She died in my arms. For that I am grateful.
We still don't know why she died, and are hoping that the necropsy will provide some answers, but right now I am trying to remember Lula as she was when she was full of life.
A flash of lightning. A shooting star. Peonies in June. Beautiful and bright and gone much, much too quickly.
Lula was everything I ever wanted in a dog. Whip-smart and stunningly gorgeous and clever and funny and sweet. Her small body was so full of joy that it burst out of her every second of the day. Everything was exciting for her, everything was fascinating. She was my farm dog, my future running buddy. She was wonderful in every way.
I will meet you on the other side, my dear girl.