April Showers Bring May Flowers

She came after the rain some 15 years ago.
Born in May.
Our own flower blooming before our eyes.
She wasn't a tulip.
She wasn't a daisy, rose, marigold or orchid.
She was our dog.
Our family's best friend until the very end.
Until it came.
The day her body could take no more and she was buried.
Into the ground.
Yet the story holds true -- the one about the seasons.
She had to die.
Or else there would never have been the season of spring.
She brought the rain.
Her body nurturing the soil around her where she lay.
She is the flowers.
She is the season that's slowly wrapping us in its arms.
She is our flower. Forever.
It's just funny since she never liked the rain.




That's our girl.