Legacy Writing 365:174

This is one of the first photos I took of Tim and Rex. In fact, I may have taken it on the day he came to live with Tim at The Compound.

And this is one of the last photos I took of Tim and Rex.

I must have taken a thousand or more photos of them in the six years between those two. I wish I could write a tribute to Rex and tell you all the things he meant to me, to all of us, but right now, I can’t. In any case, Tim’s words, which you can find here, are a loving testament beyond what I could say. I love them both so much.

One picture I can’t show you. When Aaron was here in March, he Tweeted a photo of Rex sleeping at his feet and said, “Proof! Rex is able to calm down and not jump on me.” Later during that visit, when I said I was sorry Rex kept jumping on him, Aaron said, “Secretly, I like it,” and made me laugh. When Aaron died and his Twitter account was closed, that’s one of the photos lost to me.

In Helen’s comments to Tim’s beautiful tribute to Rex, she said, “Rex’s energy is back in the Universe. I wonder where it will go now.” I’m going to share what I’ve been telling some of our friends. When I imagine Aaron’s beautiful spirit running through the Universe, now I see Rex running next to him. And jumping on him.

There’s no photo of that, either, except in my heart.

21 thoughts on “Legacy Writing 365:174”

  1. I wish I knew what to say, other then that my heart is aching for Rex’s family. I know he added a lot of flavor to the compound – he was a very good dog.

  2. Oh, no…
    πŸ™

    I am so terribly sorry.
    I loved Rex and didn’t even “know” him.
    The heart ache you must all be feeling.

    I had a bad feeling when I say your “Words – sometimes they fail me” post.
    I imagine that Rex’s passing is one of those times.

    Again – I am so sorry, Becky.
    I know how you love Tim–and Rex.
    I am so terribly sad for your tremendous loss.

    I hope that Tim is as well as can be expected.
    All things considered.

    *gentle hugs*

    1. Thank you so much, Cari. Rex was a true original–well, actually, he and Tim were very much alike, something I always enjoyed noting.

  3. I’m gutted about Rex. My thoughts are with you all. The Compound will be a little quieter today.

    1. Thank you very much. I know it probably hits you harder not only because you have Scruff and Poppy now, but because you recently lost Stanley. And I know you still think of Pip. The loss never really leaves our hearts, but I know that one day, it’ll be all of Rex’s happy times I remember first, and the sharpness of the last day will fade. All those other days make it all worth it, don’t they?

      1. They really do. And if we didn’t feel that sharpness, how would we know we’re alive? Life can pack a harsh punch from time to time, but I do believe we learn, grow and enrich our lives from those experiences. For all the hurt Pip’s death caused, I wouldn’t have been without him for the world. Eleven years of joy came before that hurt. Those eleven years were worth it. So was he.

  4. It’s so hard to lose a furkid. Hugs for you and your family. I’m going to go spend some extra love on my furbabies right now in Rex’s honor.

  5. That is so, so sad πŸ™

    And yesterday, I was at a park and saw this really loving and playful dog with brown-rice color brown, fuzzy, curly hair who’s neck aligned with my waist as he enjoyed me giving him a hug. He was playful, pouncing, and very very happy in the 95 degrees. So I gave him the water in my water bottle. And he was even more happy. The owner said thanks to me a few times too.

    I’m sorry

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