Sparkling Escapades Abroad with the Fairy Bra Mother

Our dog, Bessie, crossed the rainbow bridge on Wednesday. My heart aches, but I’m grateful she’s finally free. Her hips had grown weak with dysplasia, and she’d begun to lose her balance, especially on the steps. We didn’t see signs of pain, but there were moments that felt like dementia—confusion, slow movements, and her hearing fading.

In these last months, she moved carefully, often not quick enough to get out of the way. One day, she became disoriented and was accidentally bumped by a vehicle, which widened her pelvis. After that, she could no longer stand or take a step.

So now, she rests peacefully beneath the trees—where the breeze can find her, and her spirit can run again. 

                             BESSIE

Fourteen years upon this earth,
Thirteen held within our care—
A black lab mix from Rochester pound,
Wild heart, wind tangled in her hair.

At first I feared her bounding joy,
Paws thrown high to meet our face,
A dog who leapt more than she walked,
Forever chasing sky and grace.

She scaled the trees to reach the birds,
And learned—though swift as any breeze—
That pheasant pens will teach a dog,
With pellets she’d remember well.

She followed us through every chore,
A shadow never far to roam,
Watching over all she loved,
As if to say, “You’re not alone.”

You danced with danger more than once,
Rat poison stealing breath away,
’Til Ashley, still a brand-new vet,
Gave blood to help you stay.

When young, you flew beside the cart,
Keeping pace with every turn,
A blur of black through fields and dust,
With endless will to run and burn.

But time, that thief, it slowed you down,
Your legs would falter at the stair,
You’d look surprised your strength had gone,
As if youth still lingered there.

Your hearing faded—so we thought,
Yet let a window gently creak,
And there you’d be, alert once more,
For crumbs you knew we’d surely sneak.

Oh Bessie girl, you gave us love,
A hunter’s soul, forever free,
A loyal friend through all our days,
Who longed for fields beyond the trees.

Now run where pain can touch no more,
Where twilight woods are ever kind—
For love is sometimes letting go,
With pawprints etched upon our mind.

Sonya Joy
10/18/2025