If you ever love an animal, there are three days in your life you will always remember . . .

The first is a day, blessed with happiness, when you bring
home your young new friend. You may have spent weeks
deciding on a breed. You may have asked numerous opinions
of many vets, or done long research in finding a breeder. Or,
perhaps in a fleeting moment, you may have just chosen that
silly looking mutt in a shelter -- simply because something in
its eyes reached your heart. But when you bring that chosen pet
home, and watch it explore, and claim its special place in your
hall or front room -- and when you feel it brush against you for
the first time -- it instills a feeling of pure love you will carry
with you through the many years to come.

The second day will occur eight or nine or ten years later. It
will be a day like any other. Routine and unexceptional. But,
for a surprising instant, you will look at your longtime friend
and see age where you once saw youth. You will see slow
deliberate steps where you once saw energy. And you will see
sleep when you once saw activity. So you will begin to adjust
your friend's diet -- and you may add a pill or two to her food.
And you may feel a growing fear deep within yourself, which
bodes of a coming emptiness. And you will feel this uneasy
feeling, on and off, until the third day finally arrives.

And on this day -- if your friend and whatever higher being
you believe in have not decided for you, then you will be faced
with making a decision of your own -- on behalf of your
lifelong friend, and with the guidance of your own deepest
Spirit. But whichever way your friend eventually leaves you --
you will feel as lone as a single star in the dark night.

If you are wise, you will let the tears flow as freely and as often
as they must. And if you are typical, you will find that not
many in your circle of family or friends will be able to
understand your grief, or comfort you.

But if you are true to the love of the pet you cherished through
the many joy-filled years, you may find that a soul -- a bit
smaller in size than your own -- seems to walk with you, at
times, during the lonely days to come.

And at moments when you least expect anything out of the
ordinary to happen, you may feel something brush against your
leg -- very very lightly.

And looking down at the place where your dear, perhaps
dearest, friend used to lie -- you will remember those three
significant days. The memory will most likely to be painful,
and leave an ache in your heart -- As time passes the ache will
come and go as if it has a life of its own. You will both reject it
and it, and it may confuse you. If you reject it, it will depress
you. If you embrace it, it will deepen you. Either way, it will
still be an ache.

But there will be, I assure you, a fourth day when -- along with
the memory of your pet -- and piercing through the heaviness
in your heart -- there will come a realization that belongs only
to you. It will be as unique and strong as our relationship with
each animal we have loved, and lost. This realization takes the
form of a Living Love -- like the heavenly scent of a rose that
remains after the petals have wilted, this Love will remain and
grow -- and be there for us to remember. It is a love we have
earned. It is the legacy our pets leave us when they go. And it
is a gift we may keep with us as long as we live. It is a Love
which is ours alone. And until we ourselves leave, perhaps to
join our Beloved Pets -- it is a Love we will always possess.

By Martin Scot Kosins