The French Babbette

My sweet sweet Elvis, such an old soul. He passed away a few months ago and I swear I still get teared up when I think about him. I got him as a rescue a few years ago and he stood the test of time. I thought he'd be the last dog standing. The dog with 9 lives. He succumbed to cancer but not before 2 really hectic surgeries to remove a few tumors...one of which weighed a whopping 14lbs. The nurses at the hospital joking named the tumor 'Costello'. We all got a good laugh. But when I returned with him that very sad morning knowing in my heart he was so sick, no one was laughing. I went to work, they called me and said it wasn't good news. I had to go put him down heartbroken I had to make that decision, knowing it was the right thing to do. He was the kind of animal that gave you hope, hope that there is good in everyone, something about him that made you feel good about yourself, good about life and with that protected from all that is wrong. Sephra, in her infinite childlike wisdom, told me 'it's okay mommie, Belle (yes she named all the animals after princesses - Elvis was Belle)is in the castle in the sky where he can run forever and someday we'll be there and we can hold hands with him.' Honestly, I'll I could do was cry, tears of just awe, awe that my baby girl knows exactly the right thing to say at the exact moment I need it to be said. And as I sit here and type she still comforts me wiping my tears telling me its' okay.

Labels: Elvis