Until we Meet Again {A Tale About a Life Well Lived}

This is a story about a boy who lived life to its fullest.

I have emerged from my grief with tear-salt raw face, to share with you a truly beautiful story about a sweet Matty dog.

Who I’m very sad to say, has left us.

I held him in my arms until his last breath, telling him what a good boy he was and how much I loved him.

Kissing him on the top of the head many times, as I always did.

And although he passed, I feel he never left.

I can feel him with me still.

Not because he isn’t free to cross over, but because he knows it’s okay, if he wants to stay by my side.

Matty (Matisse) was my guardian and protector for 13 years and 9 months.

Even though he had lost most of his sight and hearing towards the end, and was dealing with horrible cancer in his face, he followed me around until the last second.

When I was working in the garden, he was positioned at the top of the porch stairs, where he always sat on duty for the whole of his life.

Even up until the night before his passing, as seen in his photo that I captured below, he was at his post and on duty.

As I have been walking through the garden paths, talking myself through my grief and allowing clarity to guide me…

The one thing I am certain of, is that Matty lived a good and absolutely full life.

He came to us as a traumatized and ferociously mean little puppy.

Albeit, utterly adorable.

(The day we rescued him)

The world terrified him, and he reacted with distrust and aggression.

I decided on the very day that we rescued him, that I was all in, and ardently determined to teach him that love exists.

I gave him his space, and I was more patient with him, than with anyone or anything in my entire life.

He felt safest with Mister Lovee from the beginning, but over time morphed into being my personal bodyguard.

When we first brought him home, it took him nearly a month to bark and show us that he had a voice.

And then, another 3 years of patience and coaxing to get him to go down a flight of stairs or be hugged.

But I knew that deep down he was tender and craving connection.

Once, when he was a puppy, there was a pack of coyotes howling nearby, and he was so scared that he jumped up for me to pick him up, and I did.

After a few moments he realized we were too close, and he sprung out of my arms.

At that moment I knew I was more in love with him than I could ever be, and that one day he would let me kiss and hug him without running away.

Slowly but surely, he became the protector of our world, from atop his porch steps.

We enjoyed 14 springs and 13 summers together.

We grew gardens every year, exploring our giant pumpkin patches…

And I think, growing closer and closer.

I worked hard, and he watched, protecting me.

Always guarding me.

And soon, we were sitting in the verbena together.

Rolling in early spring green…

Side by side, but not too close.

Over the years, daily hugs and forehead kisses became our language.

He got to meet our first dog Baby and spent one year with her before she died.

Matty adored her, and I think saw her as his mother.

She was the one who taught me about this deep magical dog love that I never knew existed.

She cracked my heart wide open and made me the best dog mom I could ever be, based solely on love and compassion.

Before Baby, I never understood the vast depth of meaning in unconditional dog love.

She opened my eyes to it.

She gave me the knowledge of how to raise Matty.

He really grieved for Baby when she died, in a way I’ll never forget.

Once day we decided to get Matty a little brother.

The puppy was a little golden retriever we called Miles.

(story about Miles’ first day home, here)

Matty and Miles loved each other and had a ball running around chasing each other and wrestling.

Miles had a beautiful personality and unfortunately became epileptic, which I think Matty understood.

He even allowed Miles into his secret bed under the porch table.

Quite unbelievable.

Matty was so dedicated and loyal, and on duty 24/7.

He could hear anything, even in the far distance, and nothing was getting past him.

He loved his perch on the top front porch step…

Surrounded by flowers and birds of all kinds.

He absorbed and lived every second of his life.

Running like mad, playing in the rain, chasing rabbits.

Eating really good home cooked meals.

But most importantly, protecting me.

I gave him 13 years of my life.

And he gave me his entire life.

We were inseparable, he was my shadow.

Wherever I was, is where he wanted to be.

He knew how to open all the doors in the house and would find me no matter where I was.

As things usually happen…

Over the years he really began to soften.

He let me hug and kiss him.

And even though he refused to sleep in my bed, on a couple of rare occasions in winter, I would find him tucked tight into my legs in the morning, right on top of my bed.

As soon as I would wake up, he would leave.

We started going everywhere together, and he was my front passenger.

Eventually feeling comfortable enough to just nap as I drove.

We had a rhythm and a beautiful full life together.

We even began hugging several times a day.

When I was watering the garden he would always sneak up from behind my left side, sometimes startling me.

He would lean on my left leg, letting me know he was there.

I loved when he did that and I would stop to pet and hug him, and give him a little back rub.

He survived valley fever several years ago.

After which, he really wasn’t the spunky guy who would play with Miles.

A few years later Miles died at the age of 10.

Matty and I went on walks, and bonded even more deeply after Miles was gone.

(post about Miles’ passing)

As strong as Matty was, he had the most gentle paw shake, and delicate paws that he kept meticulously groomed.

There are so many details I could go on and on about.

Like how Matty thought our young Teddy was annoying, but still loved running around the yard with him.

(post about the day we brought Teddy home)

And about how, Matty eventually loved 4 humans the most, and let a select couple come into the house.

But mostly, it was he and me, and we loved being in the garden together.

He always found the best look out spot depending on where we were.

He even alerted me to a rattlesnake I almost stepped on last year.

I am lost without my fierce warrior to protect me.

I will somehow have to find my own way.

This was Matty on the porch the night before he died.

It was time, he had lived the fullest life.

He was in pain and struggling with the terminal squamous cell cancer growing so quickly in his face.

He had the most beautiful weekend and morning before his passing.

It was peaceful, and the most beautiful blue-sky day.

With butterflies flying around us as he died in the verbena patch where Miles is buried.

I held him in my arms until his last breath.

We had a lovely procession to his grave right beside Baby, which Mister Lovee prepared and organized.

Two men and a dog lowered Matty into his grave, I picked flowers around the garden.

I put a solar light on his grave, that I could see all night in the distance from my bed.

I knew it was his time to go, but the pain still gets you.

Deep loss has such vast pain attached to it.

Matty left the garden peacefully, dying at home with love and dignity.

He deserved every bit of it, after his service to our little family.

There will never be another Matty.

It was years of creating that bond that we had.

Working through all his quirks and trust issues until we formed a beautiful alliance.

He was unique, one of a kind.

I had to learn to respect his space and go at his pace, which really changed me as a person, for the better.

Imagine the irony of me thinking that I was going to teach him that love existed, when really, he was the one that taught me.

An animal is not just your pet…

An animal is “a someone” that you love.

That you spend more time with than anyone.

You cultivate a life together and are often closer than you are with any other being.

This is why losing them hurts so much.

You feel as though you have also lost a part of yourself.

That the meaning of your life has changed, and that time has slipped through your fingers.

If you have been lucky enough to love in such a way, then you will undoubtedly feel the pain of loss that I speak of.

If you feel the love that leads to such vast pain, then you know that they have lived a wonderful life by your side.

That is what you must remember when searching for peace in the well of grief.

And that must be where the healing begins.

Matty had a great life by my side, and I had a great 13 years with him by my side.

He lived his life to the fullest, and now I must miss him.

I worked in the garden last night and began to feel a sense of peace again.

A glimmer of peace.

I have wonderful Teddy and people to love.

Matty wouldn’t want me staying inside and crying in a corner.

(Even though I still might for a little while)

He would want me outside, sniffing rosemary, listening to distant animal sounds, watching out for unknown cars, and chasing rabbits, even though we will never catch any.

He would want me to sit on the top step of the porch, with my eyes closed and my nose in the air, waiting for the scent of monsoon season to begin.

He would want me to leave footprints in the snow and run through rain puddles.

He would want me to drive in the car to wonderful places and go on sunset walks, sniffing the desert in pure bliss.

He would want me to live my life to the fullest.

A life well lived, just like his.

 

Nothing more, nothing less.

 

Matty (Matisse) Valencia

September 1, 2009 – June 12, 2023

 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

 

 

 

Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay.

Performed by Mother’s Daughter <3