Saturday, October 8, 2011


Upon reading Connie's blog over at Hartwood Roses I realized that I have not posted a blog in a very long time. I feel compelled to tonight because of the same reason as Connie's most current post, the loss of a special friend in the household. Cinnamon came to our house with her "brother" Mikey two years nearly three years ago. Her mom and dad had been Dachshund breeders (not puppy mill type) and had moved to Florida three weeks earlier from Alabama. Within a week, the husband had died suddenly of a heart attack, and the wife could no longer care for the two pups to the standard she would have liked. So with a tearful goodbye, these two sad pups joined our other Dachshund, Beau, at the (then) new house. We realized very quickly that the two boys did not get along, and partitioned the walk through kitchen to keep them separate.  While Mikey is a great dog, and I love him dearly, Cinnamon was my prize. She reminded me of the Dachshund I grew up with at my family home (our family has had Dachshunds since the 1930's) and immediately took to me with abundant kisses and attention. 

Last Friday Cinnamon left the corporeal world to cross her own Rainbow Bridge. She left this world with the tears of myself and my partner streaking her soft red fur, and I know she felt the love that went with her in our embrace. It was the most heartbreaking decision I believe I have ever had to make, to end a beautiful life that brought so much joy to our lives. However, the vet reassured us that we had made the right choice for Cinnamon, and she let us take her home (though that is technically illegal) so that she could have a final resting place in the garden she so loved to explore. And so, a little piece of my heart lies beneath the wisteria arbor now, and somewhere in heaven, there is the sweetest little girl getting belly rubs from the angels.

Mikey and Cinnamon the day they came home with us, she is the sad looking one on the right.

My sweet girl enjoying a day out in the garden

Cinnamon was an explorer from the beginning.

When we installed the gravel walkways, Cinnamon hated walking on it, and so she did a tightrope walk on the bricks instead.



  1. So sorry for the loss of your beloved Cinnamon. I experienced this same heartbreak earlier this summer. Losing a pet is not easy, but I think placing her in the garden is a fitting tribute to her. I did the same with my Andy. I hope you are able to enjoy sweet memories of Cinnamon while enjoying your garden.

  2. I'm just now getting around to visiting ... it's been a while. I know your pain and, for me, it's getting a bit less sharp. I hope this is the same for you. We brought Emma's ashes home yesterday, and there's a special peace knowing that she is home again.

    Your Cinnamon was a beautiful girl. I especially love the tight-rope act on the edge of your path -- Emma also really hated gravel.

    Remember that we let go of our precious pets because we love them so much. It is the ultimate act of love.


  3. Oh, Ken, I'm so sorry that Cinnamon is not with you anymore. I lost my Pepper a year ago last April, and it still hurts, and everything about it seems out of joint and wrong. It's true that it is the ultimate act of love, because everything in us selfishly wants to keep them here, but we let them go. I'm sorry I missed this post three weeks ago.

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