I missed the funny festive collar, the food bowl painted red and green, the ribbons and bows dragged about the house with each swoosh of her grand tail. No jingle with with every step, no squeaky candy canes. It was a quiet year of sweet memories and salty tears. RR

Trusty's last run at Fort Funston June 2010

It takes a village...

Trusty meeting up with Becky on McAllister in early summer

at times trusty was full of bologna

checking in on Rocket at Glenn and Ryan's house

In many ways, I am Rosemary’s shadow.  (I was even born on her birthday.)  I’ve watched and followed.  I’ve admired and observed.  I’ve seen how she speaks and laughs.  I’ve witnessed how she comforts those around her, and how she turns inwards.  I lived with Rosemary during one of Trusty’s final months.  I observed the care, the heart-ache, the tenderness, the tears.  I saw how this heart-string tied Rosemary to Trust and Trust to Rosemary.  How this animal, this trusted sister, could evoke such human responses in Rosemary (and in me).  How Trusty gently eating from the palms of our hands brought waves of relief mixed with waves of pain – as we knew, as human animals do – that her days with us, on this earth, in this life were becoming fewer and fewer.  I watched as Rosemary tenderly greeted Trusty each morning.  There were many nights when Trusty would scratch at my bedroom door – wanting to be held, wanting to be cared for, wanting to be loved.  There is this notion that a human’s love for an animal (a “pet”) should somehow be less-than our love for other humans.  That our ties to animals are somehow less special, less important, less devastating, less joyful…just less.  But I have been witness, not only with Rosemary and Trusty, but with others – that our ties to any life, no matter the form it may take, can be profound, moving, saddening, joyful, deep and meaningful.  We are all dust to dust – no matter human or dog – we will all return to the same form.  We can all be spread over the grounds where we walked, thrown into the oceans where we swam, held in the hands of people who loved us, cared for us, who are left behind to remember us. 

Dear Rosemary, I still feel Trusty’s presence.  She’s still bounding down the hallway; she’s still eating from the palms of our hands.  She is still barking at a squirrel; she is still sleeping in her chair.  She is still scratching at doors, and she is still tied by a heart-string.  

 Love, Jenn

the free zone

The free zone on marlboro street - jacob antonio and trusty meeting for the first time - love at first site....thank you rosemary for bringing trusty to our oak tree to live on with the acorn gnomes.

An Evening in Boston by amy g

It was windy

And cold

Rosemary and the four of us gathered on Comm Ave in Trusty’s old stomping ground.

Rosie brought her ashes to spread in her old favorite spot from when they lived on Marlborough Street

We wore hats and gloves and weren’t really sure what to do

 and then Rosie spoke.

A firetruck went by with all its lights and noise

She read some very very beautiful words about death and passing, 

But mostly, somehow, it was about life and gratitude.

Then she told us about how it was with Trusty

At the end

How she waited for Rosemary

How she did her last great and final triumphant wag

How Rosie knew it was time.

How she didn’t know she would know.

But she did.

Rosemary told us how grateful she was to Trusty

How love is endless and how it is to be so loved.

Then each of us took a bit of ashes in our hands.

We took off our gloves and we touched the ash

And were amazed that it really is dust to dust

And we each went different directions and sprinkled the ashes and

Spoke to ourselves, or whomever was listening

And told ourselves how lucky we were to be loved by Rosemary

gifts abound