Lovely gentle Marra survived 12 agonizing years in a puppy mill. She was robbed of her youth, her health and her sight, but not of her sweet spirit.
Marra and her companions, Karma and Andy, entered my life in June 2007. Affectionately nicknamed “the Maltese Mafia,” these three amazing little survivors quickly laid claim to my heart.
Marra was the oldest and the most timid, but was also the rock of this little trio. Everyone loved Marra, and Marra loved them back. There was always space on her pillow
for a new friend.
Marra loved life, her companions, and food … not always necessarily in that order. She happily embraced life, eagerly living it to its fullest, to the very last day.
Odean sent this to me, in memory of Marra, and I offer it here in gratitude for those on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge, happily exclaiming, “Here she comes!”
THE SHIP
by Henry Van Dyke (1852-1933)
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length; she hangs like a speck of white cloud, just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says: “There, she is gone!”
“Gone where?”
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight
to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: “There. She is gone!”, there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:
“Here she comes!”
We will miss you, lovely Marra,
until we meet at the Rainbow Bridge,
| Marra Lisa |
| 20, Apr 2011 |
| John & Bekye Eckert |