Since you know that my baby puppy, Mysti Mariah, died last week, I want to let you know that she’s come back to me several times.
Right after she died, I was thinking of her and crying while seated on the toilet. She used to come in when I was there and wasn’t reading to stand in front of me so that I could rub her ears. I’m a pretty good ear rubber, acupressure and all. Memories come back in a flood of tears from those good times before.
Through my tears I saw my baby standing in front of me. She looked like her regal self, ready to put her head into my hands so that I could start the ear rubbing, except for the cloudy white translucence, which inhabited the interior of her body instead of the beautiful silver/black she was. When I saw her like that I was shocked at the unexpected surprise.
That’s when she told me that I needed to quit crying, that it was upsetting to her. She went on to tell me that she loves me, which I knew. The problem is that I can’t hold her to me, smell her and love her like I did when she was physical.
The next day I was sitting in the backyard when I heard, “Mother, I will come back to you.”
No, I thought to her. I can’t do it again.
“I will come back to you,” she repeated. “I will.”
I shook my head as I walked into the house to my computer and decided to draw up an animal card for her. As I pulled the card I whispered, “This is for Mysti.” When I clicked on the daily card I said again, “Now remember this is for Mysti.”
The card came up with a beautiful butterfly, wings spread, flying above the grass. You may think that was nothing but in Native American lore, the butterfly is the sign for reincarnation. Coincidence? I don’t believe in them.
It’s been less than a week and if feels like forty years.