The first is a day, blessed with happiness,
when you bring home your young new
friend. You may have spent weeks deciding on
a breed. You may have asked
numerous opinions of many vets, or done long
research in finding a breeder.
Or, perhaps in a fleeting moment, you may
have just chosen that silly looking
mutt in a shelter--simple because something
in its eyes reached your heart.
But when you bring that chosen pet home, and
watch it explore, and claim its
special place in your hall or front
room--and when you feel it brush against
you for the first time--it instills a
feeling of pure love you will carry with
you through the many years to come.

The second day will occur eight or nine or
ten years later. It will be a day
like any other. Routine and unexceptional.
But, for a surprising instant, you
will look at your longtime friend and see
age where you once saw youth. You
will see slow deliberate steps where you
once saw energy. And you will see
sleep where you once saw activity. So you
will begin to adjust your friend's
diet--and you may add a pill or two to her
food. And you may feel a growing
fear deep within yourself, which bodes of a
coming emptiness. And you will
feel this uneasy feeling, on and off, until
the third day finally arrives. 

And on this day--if your friend and God have
not decided for you, then you
will be faced with making a decision of your
own--on behalf of your lifelong
friend, and with the guidance of your own
deepest Spirit. But whichever way
your friend eventually leaves you---you will
feel as alone as a single star in
the dark night. 

If you are wise, you will let the tears flow
as freely and as often as they
must. And if you are typical, you will find
that not many in your circle of
family or friends will be able to understand
your grief, or comfort you. 

But if you are true to the love of the pet
you cherished through the many joy-
filled years, you may find that a soul--a
bit smaller in size than your
own---seems to walk with you, at times,
during the lonely days to come. 

And at moments when you least expect
anything our of the ordinary to happen,
you may feel something brush against your
leg--very very lightly. 

And looking down at the place where your
dear, perhaps dearest, friend used to
lay---you will remember those three
significant days. The memory will most
likely be painful, and leave an ache in your
heart---As time passes the ache
will come and go as it has a life of its
own. You will both reject it and
embrace it, and it may confuse you. If you
reject it, it will depress you. If
you embrace it, it will deepen you. Either
way, it will still be an ache. 

But there will be, I assure you, a fourth
day when---along with the memory of
your pet---and piercing through the
heaviness in your heart---there will come
a realization that belongs only to you. It
will be as unique and strong as our
relationship with each animal we have loved,
and lost. This realization takes
the form of a Living Love---like the
heavenly scent of a rose that remains
after the petals have wilted, this Love will
remain and grow--and be there for
us to remember. It is a love we have earned.
It is the legacy our pets leave
us when they go. And it is a gift we may
keep with us as long as we live. It
is a Love which is ours alone. And until we
ourselves leave, perhaps to join
our Beloved Pets--it is a Love that we will
always possess. 

- -Written by Martin Scot Kosins,
Author of "Maya's First Rose"