Hey buddy! This is how I imagine you if doggie heaven exists.
Amy-Leigh and I were coming in from a hot-as-hell afternoon walk, and I realized that it must have been about one year since Roxy-Dog departed this earth. Turns out that it was exactly one year ago today. Wow, a lot has happened in that year.
I’ve done a lot of thinking and pondering and such since then. But I haven’t come up with anything better than this, which I wrote following RD’s death:
The lesson is clear: play hard, enjoy the time you have on this rock, sleep hard, and don’t take a moment for granted. With all it’s ups and downs, your current life is all you’ve got. Don’t waste it.
It’s not rocket science I know, but it would be good for me to refer to every once in a while. I have been feeling like that lately, and look forward to a little vacation in order to get to play some more.
Roxy-dog, if you’re out there, know you’re always in my heart. I think about you quite a bit when Amy-Leigh and I are out doing outdoorsy things. If I start to get too serious, send me a message in a dream or something.
Update: I started playing guitar and realized that the song I was playing was perfect. Not only do the tune and lyrics fit the moment, RD probably heard me play this a few hundred times. She saw me in some of highest highs and lowest lows, with a lot of walks in between. This is one of my favorite versions of this song, live from the Pulse tour about the time that I really became aware of this band. Enjoy one of the best mellow rock-and-roll songs ever from one of the best bands of all time.
Wish You Were Here by Pink FloydSo, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.