Willa left us three years after Henry on a golden sunny October morning. On a full moon Halloween morning when Chris had to rush and catch a plane to Florida. She was fourteen years old, the queen of our lives. Strong of body and soft in temperament. She was, as Chris put it, "the most Femi-centric of dogs." She was incredibly beautiful, snow white with tremendous pink ears. She was never leashed and trained in the fashion of the New Skeet Monks. She responded to voice and hand commands and was always by my side; obedient, graceful yet fiercely indpendent. She loved the cold weather and being outside in Winter. She was a magnificent swimmer and would harangue us for hours at the James River fetching sticks and balls.
She has been gone nearly five years and I am still tortured and cannot talk about the way in which she left us. She was sick with cancer and in much pain; suffering in her silent, proud way. Her mind was clear but her body was achey and unsteady. She was unable to stand and we had made a ramp and would sling her under the belly to help her up and down. But the time had come and I still regret not waiting a little longer.
She comes to me in dreams, sometimes young and healthy - other times not. These dreams fill me with sadness and so I work at remembering what a truly amazing animal she was and how athletic, strong, brave and giving at all times.
Henry made his way back - but Willa has not. Chris said she attained doggie perfection and I wonder if that's possible with animals. Someday she may return, but until then I continue to miss her every single day and think on her grace and gentle spirit.
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