We lost our dear Polly a couple weeks ago. She would have been thirteen years old later this month, a good long run for a Great Dane. She crossed the fabled Rainbow Bridge peacefully at home, in the grass under the sun, surrounded by those who loved her the most.

While I can say I’m relieved she’s no longer struggling, there is a giant dog-shaped hole in my soul. Polly was my bestie beastie since she was five weeks old.

Every day she taught me about living in the moment, pure positive energy, connecting from the heart, speaking without words, unconditional forgiveness, and seeing the best in everyone. No small feat, but my giant dog handled it all with ease. Far better than I do some days.

She was my muse and my hiking buddy. Inspiration for my first published novel, lover of picnics and roadtrips, always ready to play or to lend a furry shoulder to lean on.

There were constant laughs along the way. If you know a Great Dane, you get it. Living with a real life cartoon is never dull. Marmaduke and Scooby Doo got it right. She was gangly and goofy, yet sometimes so graceful it was breathtaking. Other times so clumsy all we could do was laugh about it. And when the pony-sized dog is tail-wagging excited and making all the men in the vicinity wish for athletic cups… yeah just laugh harder.

And then there was the dog food budget. I had to make a separate line item for that! But it was worth every penny. What can I say about the slobber? It defied imagination. Every shake of her head sent it flying to sploot on the walls, ceiling, furniture, TV screen, and us. Her lips could hold a quart of slimy, cold water to be generously shared with whoever was closest.

Polly was the most gentle soul — human or otherwise — that I have ever met. She was pure and kind and all the things we should aspire to be. She was love itself wrapped up in a tawny coat.

Today my heart hurts, but is also filled with appreciation for the wonderful, life changing gift she was. Polly is still with me, I feel her presence like a warm breath of air on a chilly night, but oh how I miss a fifteen pound head lying in my lap for ear rubs and the sound of massive paws careening through the house in the exalted bliss of simply being alive.

So until we see our big Polly girl again, it’s farewell… but never goodbye.