I want to thank everyone’s kind and comforting words yesterday for me, and for little Gratzy who died yesterday. I slept okay last night, only dreamed a little bit of the situation. And not horribly, thank the gods. I hate having awful dreams and I was afraid I would and I would feel worse today. But I feel a little bit better today. And I realize that my feeling bad now isn’t going to help him at all. Hopefully over the next days and weeks the memories will fade and I won’t think about it so much anymore.

I have been snuggling my own dogs quite a bit and finding their whole, healthy bodies a great comfort. We are all so fragile. And I’ve also been waxing philosophical too. I feel obligated to do rescue. Right now, I would love a new rescue dog to nurture and help. And while I can’t save them all, I always think of the starfish story.

The Starfish Story

A young man is walking along the ocean and sees a
beach on which thousands and thousands of starfish
have washed ashore. Further along he sees an old
man, walking slowly and stooping often, picking up one
starfish after another and tossing each one gently
into the ocean.

“Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?,” he
asks.

“Because the sun is up and the tide is going out and
if I don’t throw them further in they will die.”

“But, old man, don’t you realize there are miles and
miles of beach and starfish all along it! You can’t
possibly save them all, you can’t even save one-tenth
of them. In fact, even if you work all day, your
efforts won’t make any difference at all.”

The old man listened calmly and then bent down to pick
up another starfish and throw it into the sea. “It
made a difference to that one.”

UPDATE: Yup, he was one of the Iggy’s from the local rescue up north, and I know the girl who does it. She is pretty upset, expectedly. His name was spelled Gratzi and he was 11 years old.