My wife and I find great peace and calmness in the solitude of our vast area called the Flint Hills. Cattle outnumber humans greatly in this area of very large grazing grounds. We have a special place where we always go to picnic or to just relax and photograph the vastness. We always bring our dogs here and one Thanksgiving, we lost my wife's truest buddy, our little dachshund Liesl. She loved the area and had run amid the creeks, gullies, and hills for years there. We buried her the same day in this spot of beauty for her. We often return and the pain is now replaced with the understanding that she is now one with this land.
She is buried in one of the washed-out gullies and my wife treats it as a shrine. She will wander over to the gravesite, sit on the side of the gully and talk to her. She feels refreshed after her visit and our other dogs who never met her seem to understand the respect my wife gives to this spot. Here is my wife going to visit Liesl.
She is buried in one of the washed-out gullies and my wife treats it as a shrine. She will wander over to the gravesite, sit on the side of the gully and talk to her. She feels refreshed after her visit and our other dogs who never met her seem to understand the respect my wife gives to this spot. Here is my wife going to visit Liesl.
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