My sweet, stalwart familiar Pasha died early this morning at home, resting beside me.
My husband and I found her in a dog rescue house in Costa Rica, a half-feral little animal quite desperate for but terrified of human love. It took her a while to get used to accepting our love, but by the end of her life she could lean her weight into us and relax in our arms.
Humans had treated this little sweetheart badly early in life. She had a bullet in her chest to deep to remove—someone shot her when she was a puppy on the streets. She was afraid of people, even gentle ones, at first. In a great leap of faith, she learned trust in this life. Nothing made us happier than to have our little Pasha rest in our lap–it always felt like such a moment of grace when she did.
Over our twelve years with her, Pasha earnestly offered devotion and companionship. We were so lucky to share a beautiful chunk of our lives with this little wild soul.
Love for my girl P.