A Facebook friend, Goliath Laycock, made and offer to photoshop pictures of people’s dogs for them in really cool settings, for just $5 each. The proceeds go to buying dogfood for the ASPCA. And having been thinking lately about my late Kenai, how he loved cool autumn air and snowball games… well, here are the results:

He was such a beautiful boy, my Kenai.
And he was my first attempt to deliberately train a Great Dane to be an assistance dog.
I’d dabbled with previous ones; Taj, pick that up for me, or Shabah come have some love time when I was sad.
Just bits and pieces of tasks, before I knew there was such a thing as a service dog for someone who wasn’t blind. But Kenai was my first puppy with a pre-planned purpose.
It’s been nearly 5 years since I made up my mind to wander my way into owner training a service dog. Most lessons were learned the hard way, which I suppose, is why they stuck.
In the ten months since Kenai’s passing, I’ve really had to be careful how much or how deeply I thought about him. I refuse to entertain any sense of “failure”, or to allow thoughts that “if I had (blank) it would have created a different outcome”.
I know myself well enough to know that when I’m sorrowful, such sensations would be the first ones through the proverbial door, and the most intense. That’s just me, the PTSD‘s alterations to the functioning of my heart and mind.
I’ve had yogis say, and various others say, “just let the feelings come and wait for them to pass”. But they don’t pass for me. I admire people who can feel even intense feelings and recover relatively quickly. Unfortunately, I don’t: I become physically ill with fibro flares, migraines, hyper-reactive, the works.
So I do have to nibble away at feelings of loss, and shut those feelings down when they become so intense that I realize they will dig deeper ruts rather than weaken. Much the same way I came to try owner training, dealing with the loss of my boy loves has been in bits and pieces over time.
That’s okay. I can look at his pictures now. Misty eyed is okay, too.
I can look at the raging red leaves of the maple trees and think how much Kenai would have loved to pounce in the growing piles with a bit of a twinge rather than an urge to go to my room and cry.
Everyone has their ways. And it’s never a good idea to force yourself to “get over it” when you think you should. Only one’s heart knows when.
I actually love looking at these pics. Goliath’s “mom” did such a wonderful job. Kenai was beautiful enough to belong in the high end boutique window. At least in my opinion!
Memorials become testaments to the beauty that someone brought to our lives, and the wisdom they left us with. Even just a photoshopped picture or an open field can be a memorial.
I do miss him and his silly brother. The Brothers Grin. A yin and yang pair if ever there was one! Mr Majesty and Mr Goofy!

If you would like to have your pic’s photo-shopped, here is Goliath’s owner’s facebook page link. Just private message her, and upload the photos. Or you can go to her website if you’d rather. The cost is nominal, and the proceeds will buy a food for the ASPCA, so it’s a win-win for all.
























