|A labor of love.|
Let me start by saying that Nick the Dog is still with us. We’re trying to savor each day, looking for a slight tail wag or a smile. But we also are preparing for the inevitable.
We picked a gravesite in what we call “The Meadow,” a small nook of cleared land across the road where we feed the deer. We can see it well from the kitchen window and from the loft. We took turns digging over several days and it’s now ready, not that we are.
Mason built a casket. Normally we're cremation people, but we have so much land here. And Nick loves it here. We’ll bury him with his bed, his collar and his favorite toy — not that he has ever been overly playful. But he has been a real sweetie, a great dog, a great friend.
Who knows, maybe he’ll be with us for longer than we think. And if he is, each of those days will be better for it.
|A rare flower spared from rabbits and deer.|