On Saturday May 22, our oldest poodle, Zinca, died at home. I knew that it was coming. I stayed with her until she finally breathed her last. She would have been 13 next month.
I miss her terribly.
I miss her terribly.
Losing a pet is so hard. We invest so much of ourselves in them, and they in us, that when the time comes to say goodbye, it is wrenching to the core.
In 1997 our first standard poodle, Zola, died. Some time afterwards, I painted this painting.After I finished it and looked critically at it, I realized that I had painted my feelings about losing Zola.
And now it is heartfelt again.
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