I see him as a warrior.
He has endured a life that has been filled with experiences as a runaway, a victim, and other heartless events. His warm brown eyes speak of the love that is in his heart to give and to receive.
When I looked into Beckett’s eyes, tears stung my own eyes as I thought of Brook. I remembered the day I got Brook. And I remembered the day I said goodbye. I asked myself will it ever be enough time before getting another dog. Was I being disloyal this soon after he had died?
I got clear that I wasn’t replacing Brook, but instead I was giving another dog the chance to know love and giving myself a chance to give love.
Beckett is a border collie mix with a sweet disposition and a huge heart. I love the way Beckett rests against me when I sit next to him. I love his gentleness and curiosity. I love knowing that his life of fear and pain is over.
He isn’t Brooklyn, he is Beckett.
I know that Brooklyn is happy seeing that another fellow-dog gets to wake up every summer morning to a long hike and maybe a few trips to the lake. He is happy to know that his sister Pepper might stop looking for him. He is happy to know that I have another dog to fall in love with. He is happy to know that this little guy will be loved beyond the limits of love.
My little Beckett. Sir Beckett, the warrior.