You loved that dog. I can see that. If I can see it, I know that dog knew it. That dog would not hold anything against you. That dog loved you and would not want you to feel bad. I don’t know where your dog is now, but I am certain she is fine and I think you know that too.

The sweetest dog I have ever had died two weeks ago. Sunny was a blond Crocker Spaniel. She was 17. I got her at a rescue 3 years ago.

I had taken her to the vet a week before, and the vet said it was not time. I was so happy and took her back home.

She had a good week, but on Saturday she didn’t eat. Sunday morning I got up and couldn’t find her. I looked all over. And then again. And then again.

Sunday afternoon I happened to bend down to pick up a piece of paper and I saw her in these bushes. She had not been gone long.

The bushes were near the door to this garage apartment I have that Sunny loved. She tried to move in that place. She liked it because I go over there to cook a lot of the time. She always ate. What I ate. The day before, Saturday, when she didn’t eat–she was out there all day. At 5 I went and got her and closed the door to the place because I wanted her inside my house.

When I saw her in the bushes I knew she had wanted to go in the apartment. I felt awful because I hadn’t left it open. I can’t blame myself though, because I didn’t know.

Saturday was the first day she never ate. The vet told me to bring her in when she was having more bad days than good days. Saturday was her first bad day.

I.also felt bad because I hadn’t found her. I felt awful.

I buried her with Daisy, my beagle, watching.

We went inside and Daisy cried all day and I cried all day.

The next day it came to me, something told me that Sunny died in an ecstatic state and that it was good I had not found her, because I would have interrupted that.

Sunny was the sweetest dog.

I have this beagle here that weighs 50 pounds. She got that way eating less than half of what Sunny ate and Sunny weighed 20 pounds. I am having a hard time keeping Daisy on her diet. She looks at me she thinks I am not feeling her. She doesn’t know why. It’s not always real easy for us to do what we are supposed to do. But Daisy is at the point that she can hardly get out the doggie door, so I have to now.

Jusr as we have a responsibility not to abuse our dogs–we have a responsibility not to abuse anyone, including ourselves. Our responsibility to ourselves is just as serious.

There are too many homeless dogs for you not to take one. Do it when you are ready.

But think about going to the rescue and walking dogs today. If I were your priest, that would be your penance (except I am not your priest and I don’t think you are guilty of anything.) But if you feel guilt, then walk dogs every day for however many days–and each day, as you walk those dogs, just let that guilt you feel just vaporize as you walk those dogs. (if you are Catholic or Episcopalian, go talk to a priest. If you are neither, an Episcopal priest doesn’t care–and. The Episcopal priest can hear a confession. I do not mean to be promoting Christianity–those are the only two places I know of where you can confess and somebody will tell you you are forgiven. (and they will also tell you why you have to drop it, it’s over, you are forgiven at this moment–but they will give you some penance, something like walking dogs, but they will tell you it’s over at that moment. I like talking to priests.

There are Buddhist and Hindu clergy in most medium size cities and they probably have similar procedures.

The Peace Keep You!