First walk

Meredith Monk's Last Song has been playing in my head all week ... Until this morning with Bea. We were taking the walk I've taken with Tater thousands of times, trying to remember the last time he walked it with us. And the words kept repeating: "Last walk, last walk, last walk..."

And then it turned into "First walk, first walk, first one-dog walk ...."

Still heavy hearted, beyond belief. But good things are happening too.

Bea (BZB, as we call her - or B'Zhee) has been adjusting well and in a sad way it's kind of nice to be able to go on very long walks again without feeling bad that Tater is too frail to join us, because he always really wanted to go.

Last night I took down the roses I picked for his bedside when he was dying. They were done too, all wilted, faded and dried, so I saved the petals and composted the rest. Except there was still one little blossom just opening, all pink and fresh and sweet. That will live in a tiny cut glass vase next to my bed until it's finished flowering.

More soon.