Three years ago today, on November 7, 2007, my beautiful Byron crossed the Rainbow Bridge. He would have been 15 in January, a year or so older than the typical life span for a Welsh springer. I adopted him when he was 18 months old, a breeder re-home situation, and during our years together life had many ups and downs, but he was always there for me with his gentle presence. I especially treasure his graceful aging. In spite of spinal arthritis which progressively weakened his hind legs, his spirit remained cheerful. We adapted to the mobility issues with shorter walks, where I let him turn back towards the house when he wanted. He had a comfy bed in every room of the house, but he spent most of his time on his bed in the hall, where he could keep watch over my comings and goings. I helped him get up and walk with a little sling, and when we came to the cabin, I carried him down the stairs to his bed by the window, where he enjoyed looking out into the woods. Saying goodbye to him was very hard, but I knew I had to release him from his struggles. After he died, I placed a favorite photo of him on a table, near the spot in the hall where his bed had been. I had recently had a painting re-framed, a sea scape watercolor my father painted, and on impulse I hung it on the wall behind. The following summer Alex was born, and his breeder named the puppies the “Sea” litter, asking that all the puppies have the word “Sea” in their registered name (Alex is “Statesman’s Two if by Sea”). One day, a few months after I got Alex, I happened to glance at the sea painting with Byron’s picture in front of it, and it seemed as if Byron was smiling at me and saying, “You finally got it, mom. I sent you Alex.”
I believe our beloved pets never leave us, and they send us signs of their love, if we watch closely. What about you? Have you received a sign from a pet that has passed away?