Rosie died last December after a long and wasting illness. I do understand that the script calls for some tears and grief, but I left the script a long time ago, and am not in need of it now. We are conditioned, expected in our culture to look at loss in a particular way, but Rose transcended those expectations, and I mostly feel gratitude for my time with her. It was important, gave me some breathing room when I desperately needed it. Rose was what the shamans call a guide animal, she came to help me get through a particular time in my life, and when she was done with her work, and it was completed, she found a way to leave, as spirit dogs always do.

I look at this photo and I feel great joy. For this is my wish for her, it is my dreams of her. That she run in golden fields, stretching beyond the horizon, a world without fences, or the demands and distractions of troubled and selfish humans, who so often live hollow lives and do not run in golden fields even when they can, but instead pursue money, argue with one another and live amidst many real and manufactured fears.

Rosie is free of all that, and she can run as far and long and wide as she likes. May there always be sheep, and fields stretching to eternity and may the wind always be behind her, pushing her ahead. That is all I ever wanted for her, and I feel certain that is what she has found for herself.