Well, I don't think I have ever been this sad before in my life. I don't even feel whole. Losing Birdie is truly a death in the family. Every time I thought of how Jackie Miles told me she said a prayer that all her dogs that are in dog heaven would show Birdie around I cried. I have no doubt that Jackie's dogs will be wonderful friends for her just as Jackie is for me.
It is amazing that I got home in one piece because as I was driving I looked up at the sky and saw great big, white, billowy clouds that let me know Birdie was up there and then I cried some more and had to squint through my blurry eyes on the road ahead of me.
That all being said, I am a bit of a mess and needed to make myself feel better. My middle name is not living up to its title. My usual tickets out of a funk like coffee, buying music on iTunes, yoga,
Cheers, wearing a shirt with a bike on it, and listening to the same song on repeat for a good solid three hours just weren't working today. Thus I looked to picking raspberries.
When Brytten and I were little and spent every summer out here in Spearfish, picking raspberries was the grand finale of the summer before the curtain closed. Our grandma used to tie garbage sacks around our shoes. Tonight I realized why. The bottom of my tennis shoes have been smooched with mud and crushed raspberries. I filled my ice cream bucket in silence and thought about Birdie. I also came to the conclusion that whomever I marry must love dogs and believe in Dog Heaven. And giving me a dog as a wedding present would be a wise idea. This was all thought up while picking raspberries.
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Raspberries.... |
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More Raspberries |
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Chickens waiting for a tart treat |
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Ducks just hanging out by an old cement pail |
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Grandpa weeding |
I remember in 7th grade, the first of many times I wrote about my grandpa's raspberry bushes, and I spelt raspberry as "razzberry" and was utterly shocked when Mrs. Cross informed me of the correct spelling and I even went so far as to ask her if she was completely positive that was how it was spelt.
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