I was having an okay day until I received several emails from Healthy Paws, notifications that they had completed any open claims. The automated messages on the later ones were altered to express their condolences after seeing that Puccini had been euthanized, and they informed me that they canceled Puccini’s policy.
I felt the tears welling up as I reheated leftover Chinese food. My appetite had gone, but I ate anyway, which was not enjoyable or comforting. So, I put that back in the fridge and sat down to edit the website. I was about to switch Puccini’s portrait into the angel template but could not go through with it. I simply stared at the computer and took no action… until an urge to go for a walk outside stirred me into motion.
I squeezed myself into some Under Armour as a conversation occurred in my head. Is it too hot outside? It should be okay. What about the humidity? Just walk as much as you can bear. Should I bring my phone? My wallet? No, you’re just going down the lane. Should I bring my art journal? Just enjoy the walk. Don’t bother carrying anything.
The air felt nice when I stepped outside. After passing a few houses, I thought of Puccini and how she always looked out the windows in the car and at the hospital during her last week. It made me slow down and take in all the sights. I have driven down this road innumerable times and never noticed the different types of trees, the flowers, the birds tweeting, or the house far back from the road with an incredibly long driveway. I took my time and took it all in.
Near the end of the lane, I turned into the soccer fields, which I have done maybe once before years ago, and carefully stepped along the gravel path. SUVs and sedans glided by. Children’s voices carried over from the playground in the distance. I stopped and looked around. I followed the line of the tall trees as their tips grazed the soft blue sky, a canvas for wispy, white brushstrokes. Then, I saw it: a segment of a rainbow. I looked away to make sure it was not a glare on my glasses, but it was still there when I scanned back to its location. It was this piece of transparent colors floating in the atmosphere; it had no ends that arched into the horizon.
“Puccini!” I smiled as tears rolled down my cheeks. “Oh, Puccini! I love you!” I stood there, face to the sky until my heart felt full again. “I miss you. I know you’re at peace now. And free. Please keep sending me signs whenever you can. Say hi to Mozart and Trent and Big Orange and Baby Grey and everyone.” I gradually made my way back to the lane, my eyes fixated on this sign from beyond until it dissipated. “Thank you, Puccini. I love you.”
I walked home with a little nudge of joy pressing into the front of my chest. Once inside, eager faces greeted me.
Passing time caring for critters.
Creating while they nap.
