Yesterday was a very sad day for us. Nimitz, the gentlest, sweetest doggie who’s ever lived, passed.
The cancer that had been first diagnosed a couple of years ago had finally grown too strong for him to fight.
The tears still flow, and our hearts ache from his absence.
Bubby — our nickname for Nimitz — had a gallop that was unlike any other dog I have ever seen; like a teacup Clydesdale horse, regal and full of joy. Those of you who enjoy the company of dogs will understand when I say that I am a better man for having known and loved — and been loved by — this dog.
I will one day put into words the reasons for my earnest, abiding belief that death is not the end of life, but rather the closing of one door, and the opening of another.
Until I get around to writing that essay, we hold fast to the belief that when our own doors close and reopen, we expect to find Bubby waiting for us.
