How do I describe this moment?

Silver looked at me then looked away listening to Daddy singing his lullabies in the bedroom to Zappa and Fiona.  Our bedtime treat routine interrupted as she listened intently from the living room, lying on the couch next to me as if the song was for her and her alone.

I could feel the tears welling up immediately.  "Silver, I'm so sorry," I said as I gazed at midnight face.

If there was a dog I took for granted it was Silver.  She was so different from all the other dogs and it was hard to fit her in sometimes.  She tended to get lost in the shuffle.


She turned and caught my eye and the sobs let loose.  Silver grunted and groaned as she rested both her paws on my hands and her head on my bent leg in front of me.  The wringing of these tears were not for Silver or I, but for two mothers crying over the loss of her two puppies who died two years ago this month.

We grieved together for our loss.

We were both hurting as the anniversary drew near and we shared in that grief together.

For when she caught my eye, I knew.

"She was born in my hands," I said in a blubbering whispered cupping my hands together to show Silver.

Angel (Jan. 2,  2008-Oct. 9, 2012)

Silver turned and motioned towards her belly.  "And you had her inside of you," I said for her.

The pain was enveloping, Silver grunted and groan and I couldn't stop the overwhelming tears.  They were my babies too and just as Silver and I shared in their birth and lives, we were sharing in their deaths as well.

 Grumpy (Jan. 2, 2008-2012)

I suddenly felt Silver in a completely different light and it brought comfort to my heart.  What a beautiful dog who mistakenly gets overlooked in silence, yet still unconditionally loves as a mother taking care of her children.  Who has always considered me, one of her own.