Creating space to pause, reflect and share experiences with dying and death

The door pushed open

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The door pushed open

My dog, Poet, was deaf for the last year of her life. On the day she died, a stroke, unexpected, at the vet, I hurried to her side. I was terrified. The vet said, “call her name.” I shook my head. Then I called, “Poet! Poet! I love you darling girl.” And she heard me. She turned her head at my voice and heard me. It was incredible.

A week or so later I was missing her so terribly. As I fell asleep I asked for her to visit me one last time. In the middle of the night I heard a noise, I saw the door pushed open as if by a dog snout and suddenly she was beside the bed, tail wagging. I felt it so real! Her soft fur, her warm, familiar smell. It was Poet. She jumped on the bed (where she wasn’t allowed) turned around a few times as dogs do, and fell asleep ina perfect circle. I woke the next day and felt utter joy. I know without a doubt she was there.