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Galadriel is dead.

She was diagnosed with osteosarcoma -- bone cancer -- on June 3rd, the day after she first started limping.  After our bad experience with Laird, we chose not to amputate her affected leg, but rather to manage her pain medically for as long as that reasonably worked.  Her tumor grew to be huge, but she enjoyed her life and had no bad days, although we knew at the end that she soon would.  So, with the assistance of a kind vet who agreed to come to our land, we eased her passage, and buried her in hand-stitched red shroud I'd made for her.

She lies beneath a huge rough stone of rose quartz, in a beautiful wooded corner of the sacred burial grounds at Haven, not far from where we will build our home.  I'm sitting in Galadriel's Glade right now, watching the big machines grade and compact the soil of the building pad for our dwelling. 

But for the noise of the machines, this would be a very peaceful spot.  But I know she wouldn't mind the noise, for I brought her here almost every day for the past few weeks, and the sights and sounds of the grading did not bother her.  She was at Haven, which she loves, and with me, and so quite content. 

She was always eager and happy to be here, and ran to this spot on her last day in her body, despite the terrible weight, deformity, and pain of her cancer.  We had promised her long ago that the day would come when she would not need to leave Haven.  We kept our promise, and now she runs free, as joyous after leaving her body as she ever had been in her life. 

Our Glad Girl!



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