My Good-Bye To Easy

February 14, 2009

Dear Easy,

Where to begin about the perfect dog? More than a dog, a perfect being. Your passing marks the end of 20 years of dogs for us.

You were quiet dignity, chattering teeth, gentle giant, my prince. According to your papers, you were “Roger’s Easy,” but to us you were Easy, Easy-Bear, Zee, Good Boy, and Baby. Your name suited you. Nothing seemed to bother you. Your friendly, laid-back demeanor was a detriment on the track, but our good fortune when you came into our lives. Over these past twelve years, you tolerated countless curious ear-pulling toddlers as well as chickens. You survived that crazy escape from the boarding kennel without a scratch, while Cleo went through countless stitches and surgeries.

You greeted us every morning, you introduced yourself to every visitor, you made sure to stand where you needed to for petting. You waited up for me every night before retiring for bed. The night you died was no exception. You refused to go until I’d gone to bed. You said that it was your job to guide *me*, not the other way around.

You arrived unannounced in my meditation that night in December and told me you were ready to die, and I was heartbroken. I sobbed for hours, not understanding or accepting the idea of life without you. When Mike suggested it could mean that you were *ready* to die versus *going* to die, it made sense and I held you close during these last two months together. I knew I had to prepare for the inevitable.

Since we met, I’ve wanted to be like you when I “grew up.” You’ve heard me say it a million times. You promised you would stay with me until I didn’t need you anymore, that we’d both know when it was your time to go. This month, you finally witnessed me coming into my fullness. This February swirl of life challenges has included my claiming my space, speaking my truth, loving more freely, softening my edges, accepting myself, and following that still, quiet compass inside and not the loudest distractions. You’ve been modeling all of that for me for years, and I’m there now, Zee, with just enough of a starting point to keep it going this time. The fact you died the next day was no coincidence.

God, we love you.

Love,

Erica

Declan introduces Easy to his new bunny Monster Truck.

Quinn and her buddy “Zee.”

One of our last winter walks together.