I had an ugly cry today.  Not the slow to build, few tears down the face, one tissue kind of cry but a full on sudden onset flood, where you don't leave the tissue box far away, with the wailing and pleading, paralyzing, sobbing kind of cry that leaves one short of breath and completely exhausted. "What on earth?" you might ask? Well, I threw a paper bag in the trash. Yep, that's it. That is all it took.

It was the paper bag that held the lovely wooden box with the brass plate on the front and within the box, the remains of the best dog that ever graced this planet, my furbaby, my precious companion, my BFF, my Bonnie Boogaloo, my Boo, my Bonnie Blue.

On February 8th this year Bonnie passed away peacefully in my arms as I gently cradled that head, that beautiful head that was always by my side for more than 14 years. She was here, and suffering terribly one second, and then gone the next second, off to find her sister, Jasmine at the Rainbow Bridge.

Bonnie was one of those once-in-a-lifetime kind of pets. She is the standard by which all others will be judged and found lacking. It is, after all, impossible to improve upon perfection. From a five week old pup, to the Grande Dame she became in her dotage, she was my constant companion for more than 14 years. To simply say that I miss her is such an understatement as to appear an insult.

And so I cried an ugly cry today.  It wasn't the first and will surely not be the last. I should be happy that she is no longer suffering and for that I am truly grateful. I know it will take time .  .  .
Lots of time .  .  .