Pearl came into our room as Tomaso was dying. As she began to bark incessantly, he sat up in bed and his last words were “Pearl, Pearl, Pearl.” He laid back and took his last breath.

Pearl turns nine, tomorrow. Tomaso and son Guthrie went to pick her up in Tennessee when she was five months old. She was a wild dog. She ran away four times on the way back to Pennsylvania, but with help from truckers and hotdogs, they managed to lure her back, again.

We originally found her with the guidance of ASPCA of Tennessee and dog advocate Sheila “Trouble The Dog” Duncan. We lost our dog Ulysses, and one month to the day, with their support, Pearl came to us. She is beautiful, smart and intuitive.

Pearl adored Tomaso. The feeling was mutual. He spoiled her. He lavished unconditional attention and it poured like a gentle rain upon her heart.

My bond with Pearl was rooted in long and leisurely dog walks. That one everyday act cemented our own connection.

Pearl took her cue from me. She wanted to see how I’d respond after Tomaso’s death and I took her firmly in hand. We now walk 5-10 miles every day.

Now our walks are my priority. And hers, too. I feel like we are on vacation. I feel our lives together have taken a leisurely turn and every conscious step we take upon this green earth is tender and focused.

The suffering of the world is boundless. Politics in America is in chaos. Reflecting that chaos is at odds with the healing that must take place as every person has their own grief to bear.

Let it go. Take a walk. Get a dog. OM