My dog Sunshine passed away a few days ago. We had her for nearly six years. Robert asked me to write something about her for the newsletter, so I’ll try my best: Dear Sunshine, Before I met you I never knew a creature could be so afraid and still love so much. It made my attempts at love feel insignificant. I had always held back, because I didn’t want to deal with the pain, because I didn’t want to open my eyes to the full spectrum of light. Even the smallest speck of sun could get inside, damage the nerves, hurt me in ways that I never imagined. And it would be all the more painful because I knew I was the one who welcomed it in.
Oh man.. made me cry. I'm sorry about Sunshine. My wife and I rescued a puppy when we lived in San Diego and she helped us understand family in our early marriage. I remember taking her to Fiesta Island every weekend.
This is the most beautiful personal recollection of a dog's passing I've ever read. Your riff on family sounded like you were reading my mail--how a dog can create a true sense of family triumphing over previous negative associations.
Oh man.. made me cry. I'm sorry about Sunshine. My wife and I rescued a puppy when we lived in San Diego and she helped us understand family in our early marriage. I remember taking her to Fiesta Island every weekend.
Thank you.
That was beautiful. I'm glad you, Robert, and Sunshine found one another.
Beautiful piece, Autumn. You were both so lucky to find each other.
This is the most beautiful personal recollection of a dog's passing I've ever read. Your riff on family sounded like you were reading my mail--how a dog can create a true sense of family triumphing over previous negative associations.
Wow. I’m sorry for your loss, Autumn. This was an amazing story, and it sounds like you both helped to save each other