I'm so sorry Daisy. These losses tear at our soul.
Though he was talking about dogs, I think Kipling sized it up well:
The
Power of the Dog
Rudyard
Kipling (1865-1936)
There
is sorrow enough in the natural way
From
men and women to fill our day;
And
when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why
do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy
a pup and your money will buy
Love
unflinching that cannot lie—
Perfect
passion and worship fed
By
a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.
When
the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are
closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And
the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To
lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find—it’s your own affair—
But … you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.
When
the body that lived at your single will,
With
its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!).
When
the spirit that answered your every mood
Is
gone—wherever it goes—for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We’ve
sorrow enough in the natural way,
When
it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our
loves are not given, but only lent,
At
compound interest of cent per cent.
Though
it is not always the case, I believe,
That
the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve:
For,
when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A
short-time loan is as bad as a long—
So why in—Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
Q
Millie, all stretched out
Q