August 21, 2017

White Dog exchanged places with Bella and came into the office. She had been lying in the kitchen with Trixie, where Bella now quietly rested. The White Dog Army has been doing that, sort of keeping constant company with our Big Beautiful Girl who is in the final stages of her life journey.

“I heard dad talking with Trixie early this morning,” WD told me. “She knows it is time but she is afraid to leave what she loves and trusts. She does not want to give up.” Steve shared with me, tears in his eyes, his conversation…and his promise to hold her tightly as we helped her move to a place of no disease or old age or failing body.

White Dog wanted to know if they were doing the right thing by WANTING her to go now. “I told her I knew it was time and that she was not giving up. That it is very hard to trust what comes next is better and to cross over. But that it is. We reminded her of her loved ones waiting to greet her and promised that she would never be forgotten by those of us here. She knows but I think she loves us all too much to fly.”

After talking with Steve, I called the vet this morning and made arrangements for her to come tomorrow if necessary to offer help. Trixie’s body is quickly shutting down; she is in the twilight between worlds. It is time.

I keep typing that phrase, “It is time,” but it makes me uneasy. My big beautiful girl is not going to get better; the c monster has made sure of that.  She is transitioning to her next journey beyond us.

Still it nags at me.

Tomorrow is Trixie’s Gotcha Day with the White Dog Army. It will be one year of her tricks and antics and frustrations and joy.  The timing seems SO wrong but necessary.

White Dog stood to look into my face. She licked my cheek which suddenly was wet with tears. “Momma, let’s look at this differently. Tomorrow is a day that marks something wonderful and special that happened to Trixie…she came to live with us. Maybe tomorrow may again be a new beginning that marks her conquest over disease and old age…an eternal kind of Gotcha Day.”

I hugged The Little White Dog of My Heart with the wise soul but thought to myself. “And maybe Trixie will in her usual determined way make the decision to take things into her own paws before then.”