It’s so funny, she thought
The signs that make her believe
That things are meant to be
She walked up the steps
On the ragged edge
Of certainty and doubt
To leap or to stay
From old to new
Known to unknown
But when she rounded the corner
Saw the picture on the wall
In a heartbeat she knew
Exactly what she would do
There was a black dog
That stole her heart
A long time ago
He left a mark
The life of Riley
Lived and loved so well
She had never found another
Just let sleeping dogs lay
She knew good and well,though, that if she needed him
The spirit of her big,black dog
Would show her the way
The only thing that felt like it could have been placed there by her
Was the picture she saw hanging on the wall when she rounded the corner
“Black Dog Brewing”
Was what the words said
But in that instant
In her mind’s eye
It clearly said
“This is meant to be”
Like that night so long ago
Driving down a dark road
When a little boy yelled out
“STOP! There’s a black dog out there!”
As she rounded the corner
And in a heartbeat
When she opened the door
Black dog jumped in
As if he had always known
He was meant to be
Living the life of Riley
That’s how she knew
What she would do
One picture
A thousand words
Spirit of a black dog
Stars aligned
Dark turned to light
It became so very clear
It’s such a funny thing
But that’s how she knew.
❤👣 Jeanna’ Mead
7 51 a.m 4-6-19
Www.jeannasoul.com
Riley was my big, beautiful, black boy that I almost ran over when I turned into Blackland Road on a pitch black night. My youngest son, Hunter, was with me and he yelled at me to stop.
I pulled over and he opened the door and this scared puppy jumped in.
The next day,I texted the animal control officer and described the black dog, telling him that I would keep him until the owners were found. Two days later, I texted him again and said, “I’m not giving him up, Riley is mine,now.”
Riley was over protective of me, even guarding me from my own children. He was a slobbering mess ,a gigantic lap dog and a constant source of pure love.
I had seven wonderful years with him before he died of cancer on November 27,2012.
He was mine and I was his, in a house full of other dogs and other people, it was perfectly clear who we belonged to.
I have not had a dog of my own since Riley had to go.
I had two opportunities presented to me,two choices to make- to stay at the little house on Fannin where I had started my massage business six years ago or to go with Cari to the Cade House on Goliad that she was purchasing.
I knew in my heart that it was time to leave and expand my business but I was also a little nervous about the leap,about the change,about the steps and the unknown.
I went into the house the first time with my close friend, Jim, that had found my first place on Fannin and while he talked with the real estate agent, I walked around and when I saw the picture of the black dog,I just knew it was meant to be.
Everything else in the house was very elegant,traditional, and just a bit too formal for my taste but this one picture was something that I would have chosen in a heartbeat for myself.
Black dogs and good beer.
It’s that simple.
My Riley is still protecting me and still showing me what to do.
Open up the door,jump on in- it’s meant to be.
