The ghosts of those we love are far more haunting than those of any enemies we despise in this life.
I have draped my hands to hide my face at sights and thoughts that seemed as if they would break me. And taken one last look and touch knowing full well that it would be the last in this horrid reality but would surely not be the last in my mind. And now, I find that Remy's ghost haunts me at every nook. She pushed her way into our lives and our hearts and was always so full throttle about all she did in this life. When she came to us she was "Harley" - a name she did not know and was so abused and scared that even the vets thought it would be best to "put her down". Her first night here she got out of the fence and bare foot in February we walked the streets to find her and convince her to come back home. We renamed her Remington "Remy" McGee. She became a social butterfly and was so filled with happiness and life - as if she really appreciated the chance to break out of her horrid childhood and show everyone they were wrong. She overcame her fears and gave love to all. Bailey took her under wing and would bark for her, protected her and allowed Remy to get all the attention. Bailey seemed to know that Remy needed it. And, Remy basked in the praise and love like no one I have ever known. She loved food! After having gone hungry she embraced Portia's gourmet cooking and just about anything else she came across the counter and enjoyed it to the fullest. Kashmir, the 6 pound air borne kitty was a great buddy and would walk around her endlessly, rubbing and purring and chirping - their way of playing. Having never had any, she thought toys were a great invention too. She especially loved the ones that made real life animal sounds and more than one early morning we were roused to the sound of both a cow, monkey and bird singing over and over and over!
She was never far away from one of us. She and Bailey would split up and take turns making sure each of us were watched and cared for. She would take a few steps down the stairs and crank her head over to see if I was sitting here to know whether she needed to come down or stay up stairs.
She ran with the same exuberance - we called her a "warthog" because everytime her front feet would hit the ground there was a great "ooof" sound as she ran and chased and played. Because she was big, tipping the scales at almost 100 pounds everyone was confused as to what type of dog breed she was. She was Remington McGee the black and tan coonhound and we miss her so much.
Bailey is quiet and sad and probably wishes we would stop checking on her. Kashmir is still searching for her friend. The house is too quiet - no nose bumping my elbow - no prancing paws and no wonderful wet tongue licking everything she got near.
I hope someplace all the wonderful animals we have known and loved are together playing - I want to believe that - and it is just a human limitation from which I suffer that does not allow me to see it right now. After all, this is my blog and my dream so it can be however I want.
When she came here she needed us - when she left - we needed her. I don't know how to say goodbye, but I have found - I certainly know how to cry and mourn her passing.