Number
This was this morning’s harvest from Dexter’s plant, a Sweet 100, which I always mistakenly call a Sweet Boy. If I were to count them, there would probably be more than the number of days Dexter has been gone. He was still here when I put the plant in the ground. As I picked them today, I remembered how every summer before, he’d be right there, begging for some, sometimes even trying to pick them himself, and how last summer, I gave him the last tomato knowing it might really be the last tomato.
Sweet remembrance, Jill and a lovely photo of Dexter. Quite a cache you got there too!
🙂
I thank you so much for sharing your story of Dexter. The awareness and expression of grief is so helpful. It has allowed me to open more to the gift of my two labs. I look into their eyes and see the love. I speak to them with more gentleness and pause before getting impatient with the way they’re always blocking whatever path I’m moving through. I found this quote today and thought you might like it:
“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don’t know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring–it was peace.”
― Milan Kundera
I love that quote, Kathleen. Thank you so much for sharing it. ♥