Everything about Wally was big,
It’s hard to write this without blurry vision and the keyboard getting pummeled with teardrops. Wally our beloved yellow lab, my constant companion for nearly 12 years, crossed over on September 15th. Near the end we forbid him to ride in the four-wheeler wagon because of the discomfort it caused, both putting him in and taking him out. Well, I did give in to his insistence a few times.
Wally was given one last ride in the four-wheeler wagon but this time it carried the heaviness in our hearts too. His grave sits on a little hill under a sapling oak. The healing will take time. Like everything else about Wally, the void he left behind is big.
Below is re-post from a year ago or so with a few minor variances.
Walks with Wally in the open field are unconstrained. His boundary tethered to trust. Obedient to ghostly trails of scent, nothing stops the pursuit except one thing. My booming voice echoing, “BACK!”, over the land. He seemed to know the precise moment to come in my sights. Right before panic could set in. It was the way he returned, his joy knowing no bounds, that made me believe love and not fear returned him to me.
I often followed him to that place of freedom. Flushing out unopened places in my mind. Meandering through tight thickets of thought. Like Wally I went about it unhurried and unworried.
Now that Wally carries the heaviness of age, he’s more often than not a few steps behind than a few yards ahead. In his energetic youthful days, he’d pause occasionally to glance back. Confirming my pace as either keeping up or falling behind. Adjusting accordingly. I now faithfully return the favor to my dear friend.
Wally’s devotion runs as wide and deep as an old river. Together we have walked in beauty, in the darkness that haunts the light and in each other souls. Together is all Wally and I have. Our time together is all I will remember.
Believe in love and not fear.
Return to each other.
All of us—together— it’s all we have.