My Golden Girl by SuzAnne Miller

We celebrated Jewel’s 17^th birthday on October 10, 2020 and we said goodbye to her a few days later on October 22nd .  Jewel’s decline had been precipitous in the last couple of weeks of her life. She could hardly get to her feet. The pain on her face was obvious each time she attempted to sit down. Those back legs that had carried her over hundreds of miles of mountain trails, leading the way for her horses and keeping her little pest-of-a-brother Kola in line, were giving out. Winter’s killing cold had arrived to chill her bones and deprive her of any comfort. It was time.

Our family gathered by the river to lay her down. Nature enfolded us to sooth our pain. The cry of a pileated woodpecker echoed from the forest. A noisy flock of geese arrived to dominate the skies. Three black horses from the wild Ghost Herd on the ridge across the river paused from grazing, lifted their heads, and looked in our direction. In what felt like a final salute, a lone migrating osprey appeared low over the river, tipping its wings as it passed by, fully lit by the afternoon sun.

Jewel loved the Bitterroot River. It was her playground, her toy. It could never fool her. She understood it. She worked with it. Its cold clean water quenched her thirst and bathed her sweaty body on hot summer afternoons. She cut through it like a fish. Taking advantage of their draft zone, she always crossed the river with her horses on their downstream side. Ice did not scare her; she could judge its thickness and ability to support her body.  She read the current like a book. No matter where you threw the ball or stick, she did not fetch it by swimming towards it. She swam to where she knew the current would take it, arriving at exactly the right moment to let it gently float into her mouth. It was a thing of beauty to watch her unerringly gauge the current’s variable speed and effortlessly intercept the object of her fetching passion. The only harsh strong words ever spoken to Jewel were “No play!” in a desperate effort to be released from her relentless games of fetch. 

In life, Jewel owned that river. It is without doubt her heaven now. It is fitting that it was a golden day to welcome our golden girl. The sun’s brilliant rays lit the autumn leaves ablaze and shimmered like diamonds on the water. She is one of those diamonds now. She will forever shine in my eyes when I visit her river.

My son Jake adds these lovely Haiku Poems by Namagusai Tazukuri and Mitoku

In fall

The willow tree recalls

Its bygone glory.

The foam on the last water

Has Dissolved

My mind is clear.