Dear Mike, my soul howls with yours. It is so hard to lose our beloved friends, and I reflect on the fact that this last year you have lost so many human friends, too. Losing Duncan was hard even if it was expected and your heart must be heavy, though grateful as well. He was uncomfortable, but he tried to be brave for you, he tried to let you know that it was okay, that it was time. I imagine he is giving your hand a nuzzle and a comforting lick.
I reflect on a time in my life when my father was in a coma and I waited at his bedside for weeks. Eventually, a doctor came and blurted out to my mother that they had to pull the plug...I screamed and my mother indicated that I was eight months pregnant and couldn't he have been more tactful. My father passed and I was grief stricken that he missed the birth of his only grand-daughter by three weeks. But, amazingly, in that pain there was joy. The little life that rested in my arms was a testimony to his life and our family. Mike, the little lives that you helped birth into this world are the testimony to the pack that you built and nurtured, and even though they weren't Duncan's offspring, they were Life Re-affirming Itself. I'm sure Duncan knew he left you in good hands...he's passed the torch.
Farewell gentle giant.
