On Winter's First Death Anniversary
Moving stuff from Facebook for archival purposes. I wrote this in 2023, exactly a year after my wife's dog died.
Winter died today, a year ago. I'm posting this on behalf of my wife, who understandably wants to keep to herself today - offline and unplugged - as she processes the life and death of her pet, nay, child.
When my now wife became part of my life, Winter came with it, always sleeping and snarling at people who weren't my wife yet still always lovable and sweet. For the two or three years that I celebrated New Year's at my wife's before we were married, I had the responsibility of taking care of Winter, who was terribly afraid of fireworks, while my wife spent time with her nephews and nieces. Those were my good memories of Winter, hugging her and keeping her ears closed as we listened to calming music on my phone.
Winter's death a year ago was deeply hurting, but she was old, and maybe it really was the time for her to go. Yet, a year passed, and here we are, celebrating her life and death, her memories, and the joy that she brought to my wife, her family, and her friends.
Happy first death anniversary, Winter! Go play on the rainbow bridge with other dogs, and as my wife always prays every night, may God kiss and hug you for us.