Everything is a gift. Red’s death opened a number of important doors for me. I gave up sheepherding and am focusing more on dog therapy work, the Mansion and the refugee children living in Albany.

Because Red died, I’m getting a new dog, Zinnia, and hopefully, she will help me deepen my therapy work with hospice, the Mansion and the work at Bishop Maginn High School.

She will be the first dog I got to train for therapy work from the start, and I think we will be doing some remarkable work together.

Because Red died, I gave up sheepherding (couldn’t bear to do it with another dog), and Maria has embraced the sheep and is finding new and creative ways to integrate them with our lives and the life of the farm. She is excited about new ways to create and sell her yarn, fleece, and roving.

Because of that, we accepted two new sheep for our farm.

Because Red died, I am open to considering a new book about dogs titled “When Good Dogs Die.” This would be an exploration of how dogs die and how we humans respond to their death.

I’ve had a lot of dogs die, and I’ve learned lessons from each death. Red’s death marked a coming of age for me, I feel strong and confident about how to deal with the death of a good dog. It took me a long time.

When my good dogs die, I have a choice – suffering or learning. I get the opportunity to help a loved one leave the world with dignity and comfort. I get the choice to mourn or love anew.

Grieving is one response, change and growth are another. Everything is a gift. I believe my dogs taught me that.

Red’s death was sad, but not only sad. It is much, more more. I see Red as a wondrous gift that will never stop giving. I sometimes think he was an angel, some to guide me.

I sent my book proposal off to my agent yesterday, we’ll see what happens.

This morning, I found my angel in the Crab Apple tree. It might be my imagination, but she seemed to be smiling today.