A Boy and His Dog, One Last Time

If there is anything that will tear a mother's heart out and stomp on it, it's having to watch her child say goodbye to his best (canine) friend of nine years, then watch as he helps his dad build her casket, dig her grave, and bury her.  My heart is officially torn out and stomped on tonight.

It seems my grief training is a curse within my own family, as Noah asked me to not "griefalize" him, like I would a client or guest at the center.  Later, he declared that he believes Gretta and Denny (my grandfather who died last year) are most likely already playing fetch, as they have both been restored to good health and happiness.  A child shall lead.


I will write more when I am able, but I wanted to share this picture, and ask for prayers for Noah (and the rest of our family) if you are the praying kind.  Our dear dog, Gretta, received a better funeral than most people do.  Before we closed Gretta casket, we laid a fluffy, soft blanket underneath her, we included her favorite ball at her feet, Noah tucked one of his stuffed dog between her front paws, we laid another fluffy, soft blanket over top of her, then laid her collar on top of the blanket.  After Shawn lowered her casket into the grave, Noah donned his Scout uniform, saluted his best friend, prayed over her soul, then opened it up for any last words from other attendees (can you tell my dear child attended way too many funerals last year?).  I love this boy.  Just when I don't think he's ever going to "get it".....