Behind the Roseville Freesia urn that holds what remains, is a treasured photo of Yoda, the little girl who came to a shelter as a stray, and chose me for the Mom. I had gone in to the shelter with my friends Pam and Lee when they were looking for a dog for themselves. That day, I had no intentions of having a pet. Yoda was old when she came to live with me, and only spent a few years as my treasured companion. Weighing only six pounds, I could carry her in one hand, and she went along as I shopped the antique malls that dotted the neighborhood where I once lived. Years after her death, I was still recognized by the shops' proprietors as Yoda's mom. She slept next to me, curled up in a little ball next to my head. I loved to snuggle with her and just breathe her in. During a heat wave in 1995, which I'm convinced took a toll on older pets, because Yoda was not the only old dog in my neighborhood to die that year, I took her with me to San Francisco to visit David. I was out doing laundry, and David shot a roll of black and white film. The photos really captured Yoda's essence. I have this in a place where I can see it every day. She taught me that nurturing and caring for a little vulnerable creature is the best feeling. Ever.
2 comments:
What a cutie. In less than a week is the anniversary of Marley's death. I love the little old ladies, especially the feisty ones. And I love the people who remember me as Marley's mom -- some tourists come in the shop and ask where she is because they remembered her.
Now, in 2010, it's been fifteen years since Yoda has been gone. Her memory is with me always!
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