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Page added May 13, 2006 |
And shall I therefore pray
That thou may'st sleep through an eternal night?
The still small voice of Silence answered, "Nay,
Pray for light"
Current 93
"Sleep Has His House"
Twelve years ago this day, a red-and-white pembroke welsh corgi was born. We were privileged to have him come to live with us: a tiny, bat-eared, short-legged puppy with a small docked nub of a tail. We named him Rassi, and he grew into a dog of keen mind, indomitable nature and great character. In his mind, we think, he always saw himself as our partner, not our pet.
Twelve years is a cruelly short moment in time. Already, Rassi is gone from us. Two days ago, we chose to end his life rather than wait for the illness that had crippled his body to break his spirit. We chose his death to come with a last tired sigh instead of a final painful whimper.
Another twelve years with him, had they somehow been possible, would not have made a difference -- other than making the inevitable parting even worse. We would not have treasured the days with Rassi any more closely, nor realized how precious each of them was, no matter how many there would have been. All we have of him now are the memories. These, we will treasure, for having them is a privilege as well.
Jouni Pohjola & Sanna Kuusela
Hankasalmi, Finland
March 23, 2006
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Page added May 13, 2006 |