Obituary for Opal Forster

Adopted in NYC on April 23, 2006 by Rheatha Forster

Released to the Realms of the Spirit on December 22, 2018 from Portland, Oregon

She came into our lives on a bright Spring day in New York City. Her time ended on earth the second day of Winter (the day after my Birthday on the Solstice day Dec 21st) on a grey drizzly day in Portland, Oregon. She was almost fifteen years old. The day was perfect for tears of sadness. My God, what a sweet, friendly dog she was! Children and adults alike came up to Rheatha and me and asked to pet her. At the dog runs, she was playful with other dogs sometimes - that’s because humans had treats in their pockets, this she knew. She always made fast friends with the providers of our species.

Opal was Rheatha’s dog, but once we moved to Portland, Oregon in 2008, Opal became my everyday pal too.

I loved her face. “What a face!” I would often say. She was a dog to kiss and hold close. Make no mistake however, she was mischievous. Food was her passion. Once, she wandered away from our house in Portland to a grassy alleyway and ate slug bait. Emergency! We took her to the “Dove Lewis” clinic pronto. They pumped her stomach, gave her an i.v. and kept her overnight. Never again! Yet, you had to be ever vigilant to pull her away from dubious street treats. We got pretty good at it, but never perfect.

Her howl was not constant, but when she let it go, it was loud! If she liked you or if you had a treat, she’d let you know,
unequivocally. She was a Beagle, seemingly mixed with Dachshund. We don’t really know.

We took her hiking. She was fine on leash. There was one quirk she had, however. If it was muddy on the trail, she would seek drier ground to circumvent getting her pristine white paws dirty. This dog was fanatical about keeping her little body clean. All those recessed places and her feet. Well, c’mon, she was from New York City after all - she had to keep up appearances even in the woods of Oregon.

Can I say “Love” anymore than I have. I suppose, but let me show you some of my favorite photos that Rheatha and I took of her and us. One is with my brother Paul, who is sitting with her on our couch reading. Another is with my former Yoga teacher Carolyn, from NYC. There’s one of a new friend, Kristen and her dog, Blaze and me on a bench together. Some pics are dated, some not. I’m sure you will enjoy them and understand how we felt about her.

I could go on and on. Any dog or cat owner or horse owner will tell you the same. She was with us for twelve years. It’s gone in a flash, "like a dream or a bubble on a stream or a flash of lightening" (Buddhist reference).

I don’t mind that my Birthday was the last full day and night I had with Opal. Sadness is voluminous and vast when pervaded by the heart’s love energy. It is a powerful feeling state. We all want to feel wonderful, especially on our Birthdays, yet, for me, pondering the threshold between life and death and the Consciousness that is in and of everything is extraordinarily meaningful.

Opal was suffering and now she is not. Rheatha and I were led to the decision by Nature’s clear message that it was time to let Opal go. Our Vet, Dr. Lambert was a gem in how she administered the final injections that would put Opal to sleep forever. All went well, perfectly in its way. We have no regrets, only tears and immeasurable love for our little Opal girl. I can feel her being in its eternal essence.

I love you Opal, my little girl dog . . .

Wilma Jane Weichselbaum
Written on December 23, 2018

(P.S. One photo is of Opal looking at the Logo for our T-Shirt Company with Opal featured. We created various images using Opal as our Muse. This was in 2011.)