Sandy – in memoriam

Here is my beloved Sandy – picture taken last week. To people who don’t know him well, like we do, he still looks OK – bright eyed, soft shiny fur, healthy appetite, but a bit on the thin side all the same. But to us, he has lost his spark and spends most of his time asleep and seeks human companionship all the time – a lap to sit on, the edge of the dining table when I am sorting the post, my lap or my desk if I am working at the computer.

 We have had to take the very hard decision to have him put down as he is very ill. He will be buried tomorrow at the top of the rockery beneath the peach coloured azalea. May his spirit rest in peace and walk the rainbow path to another life.

PS he died in my arms this morning. There was no need for the vet to give him the final, fatal injection. The one he gave him to put him to sleep prior to giving him the final injection was enough. He just stopped breathing while I held him in my lap stroking him. He was ready to go and for that, I am grateful  that I had the courage to go through with it. He will be much missed and grieved over for a long time to come.

Here are some of my favourite  photos of him:



a rare moment of togetherness (only in cold weather) with his former companion, Pebbles

favourite “working” position


Shared Pain is Painless



Hope is something we cling to when we’re down,

but what if the task is too severe,

the future bleak,

and life has lost its zest?

“I know what you’re going through,”

people say.

You say “They don’t”

“I feel for you.”

“They can’t.”

“Things will be better.”

“They don’t know.”

“Do something to keep your mind off it.”

“How can you?”

“Don’t dwell on it.”

“I’m not.”


What can I do for my friend

when she’s in constant pain?

I can be there when I’m needed,

Open my heart to her suffering.

I can be understanding, forgiving

if she is not always cheerful.

I can keep her in my prayers

and I can love her.


To ignore another’s pain is heartless.

To share another’s pain is painless.


Vi Jones

©January 20, 2006

Revised for Bo June 20, 2007

Wintered Womb – For Bo

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From The Wintered Womb

Underneath the thrice ploughed, fertile, fallow field
Impregnated within a wintered, woven, womb
Of richly composted humus
I lay seeking sustenance, nourishment from
The oxygen filled wintered mist that
Drizzles, seeping, replenishing the amniotic fluids
That trickles through the membranous umbilical cord
Fertilizing, greening,
Ensuring a bountiful spring harvest.

I wondered what I could post here for you Bo, and then remembered a poem I wrote that helped to sustain me during a difficult time. Today I offer it to you with love, a reminder that if you take it quietly, lie within the wintered womb, a greening does take place.

In Rememberance


In Honor of all our losses

Of the loved ones we miss

those with two legs and those with four legs!

There is not one among us who does not know of what I speak.

Who has not shed tears of grief or offered love with open hands.

May we be granted peace.



(image courtesy of Ian Britton at

In Communicado

Woe to the status quo,
the rigid stone,
the hard bone,
the bough break,
the stand still.


Venus is in
communicado with
and the heavens
with sparks of


For the love of
Saturn melts in
the light, –
transforming –
in communicado.


The rivers flow,
nature aglow,
light at night,
sparkling stars
adrift, the
crescent moon,

Heavens above,
scrupulous love.


(copyright Imogen Crest 2007.)