Those gentle eyes that quietly watched

For 12 summers Bill and I would say to each other, "Jules would love the lake." Yet due to airline summer heat rules and then the challenges of traveling with little kids plus 2 dogs, she never had the opportunity to go with us - until this year. With the loss of Halle last September, we knew that Jules needed people more than ever, and we could not leave her home alone all day while Bill worked - let alone board her for two weeks when Bill joined us at the lake. So this year, we packed her up and she came along.

Her health had been waning since Halle's death. Our "Fatness" had lost considerable weight. She now picked at food whereas she used to devour it. I worried about her on the trip, but I had no need. A lab until the end, she was at home on Pelican Lake.

When we first arrived we decided to walk her down to the water on a leash to show her the grounds and help provide her some boundaries. Yet as we neared the water, her old strength showed itself. She pulled at that leash trying desperately to run, to leap, to swim! I unlatched the clasp, and she bounded away running head first into the cool waters.

She looked young. She looked vibrant. She was happy. This is how I will remember her.

The house seems emptier. Quieter. I miss the the jingles of her collar; the tapping of her paws on the wood; the thud of her plopping to the ground. These are sounds that have been an intimate and natural part of our home. Now they are silent, but they will never be forgotten.

I believe big sister Halle welcomed her sweet Jules on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge with wagging tail, nuzzling nose and loving eyes. And I take solace in knowing they are together again. Goodbye sweet JuJu. I'll see you again one day.