How can our hearts still keep on beating when they are so badly broken? Zinnie's heart stopped Wednesday afternoon while catching a ball. My heart will never be the same.
My only solace is that she was playing when she died. We always play catch in one of her favorite spots across the street from the cabin. She ran up the court, jumped high in the air, caught her ball, collapsed, and died, apparently from a massive heart attack. It was so quick. By the time I ran to her I knew she was leaving me. She didn't suffer. My regret is that I was the one who threw the ball.
She was our constant, and faithful companion wherever we went for the past 5 years. She loved to go for walks in the woods, long swims in the high mountain lakes. When I was quilting for too long, she would bring her ball and drop it at my feet to remind me I needed a break. She enhanced our lives. She kept us healthy. She was our little girl. She was our Zinnie.
Every morning she went out with Mr. Joe to get the morning paper. She selected his socks from the sock drawer each day. She had a huge vocabulary and she knew and understood every conversation we had with her. Most of all, she knew she was loved, and she loved us the way only a dog can love, unconditionally. She was as devoted to us as we were to her.
Zinnie, we will meet you at the end of our trail, and walk over the rainbow bridge together.