Sometime in the wee hours of May 26th, the sweetest dog I've ever known, Daisy, a 200 pound, brindle-with-apricot, English mastiff, who had fur as soft as a bunny's ear, left her beautiful physical form behind. We had stayed up with her until midnight. When I got up to check her at 2 a.m., she was gone, right beside our bed.
So we're having a difficult time here, adjusting to her not being physical anymore. However, she woke me up the next morning, just like she always has done, by standing by the bed staring at me. It felt exactly the same as it always has felt to me. It's been our thing, the way she can wake me up without a touch or a sound, just by looking at me. And she did it again, only this time, when I opened my eyes, she wasn't there.
Or was she?
I think she was. I did a deep meditation on all of this. What lies beyond the Veil is a topic I have pondered often, especially lately with several friends making their transitions within the past week or two. And while this isn't writing or book related per se, it kind of is if you think deeply enough.
As of Sunday morning, May 29th, you can read that post over on The Bliss Blog.