I helped my big sweet girl across the bridge yesterday. It was time, it was peaceful, and life moves on, but it will never be quite the same.

Angel arrived on my doorstep when she was about 2 months old, and even as a puppy, you could see a spark of deep magic in her eyes. And such sweetness! When our Vu-cat showed up on our doorstep (pregnant), she was looking for a good place for her kittens, and seemed to know what a great auntie Angel would make. Angel was there drying the new babies and nudging them toward their mama with her nose, so gentle. Later, she would carry them home in her mouth if they strayed too far, and she would chase them, but would always pause to give them time to get clear before she pounced on the spot they had been in. She was an excellent kitten-sitter, and her big fluffy tail was the best kitten toy ever.

She loved all small animals, had an intrinsic sense of when they were scared and wouldn't approach them then, but with time, she could win the trust of any small being; even Harold (the Wonder Hedgehog), who is scared of his own shadow, felt confident exploring Angel because she held so still for him. I was told by an animal communicator that her last life was as a jaguar, and this time around she wanted a life where she could have a different relationship with other animals – she got that, and it was a joy to watch. (I so wish I'd had a digital camera in her youth!)

Kids were always attracted to her, and she would stand there calmly while they pulled her tail and hung on her neck. I could trust her totally, and kids seemed to know that they could too. She was like a big teddy bear, not above nabbing any food they were waving around carelessly, but she was always very gentle as she did so, and often they didn't even notice.

She had a very strong will, and there were times that this was something of a problem (like when she would break the windows in my truck so she could come find me in the grocery store) but we had this agreement that her needs were as important as mine -- we were partners. If I was trying to show off how well she comes when called, she wouldn't, but if I really needed her to come, she was there, often just as I was taking a breath to call her. And if there was something important to her, she could insist, too, and she did.

She was a gentle soul and the best companion I could imagine. We put on a great many miles together, on the trail and on the road, and when people told me I spoiled her, I always replied that in truth she spoiled me. She made me laugh and, when I thought about losing her, cry. She was always ahead of me on the trail, and when I would get nervous because I couldn't see her, I would come around a turn to find she had been waiting for me just out of sight. I suppose that is where she is now.

The morning after her crossing, a storm has moved in, and the dampened grey feeling of this day matches my mood perfectly. My tears cleanse my soul as the rain cleanses the world. She's promised me she will come back in some form, and I have promised that I will be ready. Farewell for now, dear friend, and thank you. You are so greatly missed!