Goodbye to Morrigaine

 A week ago today, my husband and I said good-bye to our Black Lab, Morrigaine. My husband brought her home on Christmas Eve. We had only been married for 7 months and she became our baby. She was five weeks old, a big ball of fluff, and a holy terror.

For the first couple of years, we waffled back and forth if we were going to have to find her another home. She ate part of the carpet in our living room and decided she hated sleeping in her crate after 2 years old and crawled into bed with us. And that was where she slept for 12 years.

It's inevitable that our furry companions grow old and eventually wear out like us humans. It's just not something we want to deal with.

Over the years we got Cadence a Lab/Border collie mix to keep Morrigaine company. And then 4 years ago, we got Briar because I was going through a nesting period. Either a baby or a puppy. The puppy won. And she's been the comic relief in dealing with the hard time my husband and I have been through.

I named Morrigaine after the Celtic goddess for several reasons, but all the reasons fit in with her and me. She'd play Frisbee oddly enough wasn't big into going into the water but always wanted to be loved and play. As she got older and her arthritis set in, she hopped around as best she could.

She'd come between us at night and push us off the bed. When she couldn't get up on the bed anymore, we picked her up every night for years to make sure she would sleep.

Sometimes the time we have isn't nearly enough even though you say time heals, it doesn't really. It only mends a wound.

I'll miss her, but I know she no longer in pain. And one day, I'll see her again.

For now, I wait to hear her shuffling around or hear her bark to tell us she's hungry.

But all is silent.