My White Spirit Dog

Thirty Years Ago:

My mother had passed away two weeks earlier, and I slept on the couch most of the time, day and night. One morning, I was napping on the sofa and woke up, but I could not move or talk. I could only observe and watch my grandmother, mother, sister, and myself doing laundry in the kitchen sink. In my vision, it was a beautiful spring day. I could see outside and noticed a small black dog looking up at the three people she was with and then back over at me. It was cold and icy outside, but she appeared to glow with a beautiful white light surrounding and filling her.

Without hesitation, I watched myself rise and walk through the wall of the small room where the dryer sat and walk toward the dog. I felt the love and encouragement coming from the dog, and after I went through the wall, I understood her message. Life could be harsh, like the wind blowing the snow and the ice on the ground, but no matter how difficult life appeared, we were always capable of overcoming any obstacle. We are beings made of light and love.

I never even felt the ice accumulating on my socks as I walked toward her. I only felt love.

One Year Later:

I left my husband and moved to an apartment near my family in southern Colorado. I was lonely and left my rotty mix dog behind because my husband wouldn't let me take him. After the move to Colorado, I spent nights in the bathtub crying over my big dog and wishing I could have him. One morning I decided I'd been sad long enough and went to the shelter to find a new dog.

So many sets of eyes beg silently for a new home, all needy and hopeful. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Owning a smaller dog would be a first for me, but the apartments wouldn't let me have a big dog.

The puppies would get adopted quickly, and I didn't want to start all over with potty training and shoes with the toes chewed up, all the fun things puppies like to do. A row of cages along the south wall were all empty except for the last cell. Inside the cage was a small, black dog with a white spot on her chest. She was only 43 lbs; I was allowed 50 lbs; she would be a good pick. She didn't even look up when I walked toward her cage. This sweet little girl had given up, and so had the shelter. A sign on her cage had her scheduled for euthanization the next day. Her skinny body shook, and she was almost entirely devoid of hair. After I talked to her for a few minutes, she lifted her head and looked at me, and that's when I saw the familiar look in her eyes, the same expression my white spirit dog had given me.

No doubt I wanted her, and I didn't need another day to decide. The shelter workers loved her, and everyone was happy she was adopted.

She came out of the cage and was so proud to walk out front with me. She had a home, a new chance at life, and what a life it was!

She ran through the waves in the Atlantic Ocean, walked in the desert of Arizona and New Mexico, climbed hills in Colorado, and got to know many people through the journey. She was always by my side, always in my heart, and we shared dinner at night, walks, and late-night outings when others said it was too dark to go outside. We had communication and closeness most people don't have. Few others understood, were even jealous of our time. And we grew old together, my hair getting white, and her muzzle getting gray. We had a special closeness until her last breath. I rocked her in my lap and sang to her as she passed.

Goodbye, my beautiful, white spirit dog. I will see you again in heaven. I love you!