Our 14 year old son is generally not a philosopher. Nor does he pretend to be. He is a rough and tumble kid who loves the outdoors and sports, but since he was a little boy he has asked questions that I ponder for weeks. This one is no exception.
Nor did he express this flippantly.
At the end of last summer, our beloved Portia was gravely ill. Our beautiful little Sheltie had a big personality, and we affectionately referred to her as the queen. She ruled the house for nearly 11 years.
Our "little" boy was two years old when Portia joined our household, so in his memory she had always been part of the family.
Portia was never short on lovin' as a puppy!
We still recall her herding the kids around the yard when they were young--and once Kade was the recipient of a nip in the butt! (Perhaps he wasn't "listening"?) Portia was not fond of water--if we were hiking she would need to carried over the small streams that would run across the path because she didn't like to get her paws wet!
Though in recent years she loved to run on the beach with the kids and Duke.
Daddy thought she was the most beautiful dog in the world!
Despite Portia's car sickness tendency, she loved road trips with the family.
And she loved visits to the farm--though she still had to keep an eye on her kids.
She was also keeping a close eye on Grandpa!
Camping was also a favorite.
Portia generally slept with Kiahra, and the princesses were quite a pair!
Watching Kade bravely enjoy his final moments with his beloved girl was the hardest thing I have ever done.
Each of us, heartbroken, said farewell in our own way.
Each of us took our own role.
Together Kade and I drove off to the vet. Kade did not want her to be alone in her final moments. He wanted to be there to hold her her...and he was.
And through my tears, I watched my little boy grow up that day.
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