Bobby has been on the edge too many times
and I have learned
through prayer and tears
how to lift us through those years.
In the intense times, I cried.
I stayed up most of the night.
I sang my soul to call healing
to clear a way into daylight.
No more drugs, I say. No Way.
They rip his body apart.
They worry him.
His big brown eyes look at me.
So two weeks ago,
when we were particularly low,
and I thought his bones and soft hair
would be all that's left in his bed,
I said,
"Help Us. Please help me help him."
And he began to re-hydrate,
and play again in three days,
and what I know
is how the light shone through,
and how we sat
with healing essence in my palm,
and his weary head resting on my arm.
And now, for however long, he is back again.
Thank you to all our Divine helpers
This is a re-post from Come Blossom Come Fruit
Originally, written June 22, 2020
I adopted my friend Bob, from an animal shelter,
over 6 years ago, when he was 3 years old.
He had then just been abandoned by his owner.
Sadly, Bobby died 4 months ago, on July 5, 2024.
I grieve deeply.
See my posts in last 11 months.
