Goodbye from Hannaigah
(Westhampton Beach, Long Island, N.Y.)
When I had the painful task of putting my beloved Doberman to sleep, I could not be comforted. This dog went to work with me every day for ten years. She came along with me no matter where I went. She was part of my ensemble, so to speak. If you saw me, you saw my Hannaigah. (pronounced: Hanna)
As the vet was about to administer the needle to put her to sleep, I whispered to her, "I love you. Wait for me." And in an instant, she was gone. My best friend was out of her misery, and my pain was just beginning.
That night, I got ready for bed and climbed in between the sheets, tearful and lonely for my dear dog. I was just about to close my eyes but was suddenly, both startled, and comforted as I felt the corner of the bed being pressed down, just as Hannaigah used to do each night before she would lay down for the night.
I believe Hanaigah was saying "Good Night" to me for the last time before going over the Rainbow Bridge.
She waits for me in the beyond.