It’s Time

On August 17, 2012 a little runt was born part Australian Shepherd and part something else that was beautiful enough to have blended two breeds into a perfect little dog for me.

Ziti.

A mere twelve years later and her rambunctious spunk has sadly since gone. Her frisk and frolic are no longer present.   There has been no hurry in her pace and she’s lost her jumps and leaps up places she shouldn’t be.  We have had to walk around her weary body that hardly moves and lifelessly rests in the middle of our floor like a permanent rug that I wish I could keep.  Because I would!

But, it’s time.

How do I tell the little ones?  The ones that have never known me without my Z.  They know this house and this yard with her in it.  At best, her play has mustered a tired head raise.  I’m so jealous of the dogs that live to be eighteen.  She’s only twelve.  If only I could give her six more years.  Because I would!

But, it’s time.

I’ve always called her out for digging holes in the ground, but now there’s a spot that we’ll dig for her.  It is ground that she has claimed as her own.  It’s a place that she loves and it makes me want to change my mind because it’s better for me, but nothing is getting better for her.

There’s a time for every activity under heaven:

A time to give birth and a time to die;

A time to plant and a time to uproot;

A time to kill and a time to heal;

A time to tear down and a time to build;

A time to weep and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn and a time to dance

A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;

A time to embrace and a time to avoid embracing;

A time to search and a time to count as lost;

A time to keep and a time to throw away;

A time to tear and a time to sew;

A time to be silent and a time to speak;

A time to love and a time to hate;

A time for war and a time for peace.

I wish I could turn it all back.

Because I would!

But, it’s time.

Ecclesiastes 3