The Rainbow Bridge
By Randy Fischel

Yukon Zack (aka) Zacky

It was on the 27th day of July, in the year 2006 that Zacky went gently into the night across Rainbow Bridge. Almost 9 years to the day he literally "jumped" into our lives with gusto, but also with much gentleness. With his passing, he left a very large void in our hearts that can never be filled. There will never be an equil to Zacky, there will be others, but not a Zacky. He was a good guy, and I know that he is North of Rainbow Bridge, and when I get there, I know he will be waiting for me at the gate, wagging his tail, waiting for his "bonies".

He would carry his dish filled with food and place it where he wanted it and it had to rest on his left paw Zacky was like many Huskies, stubborn, turn his back to you, "forget" his name at times, and in his younger days, love to run free. But unlike other Huskies, he would "dance" his left paw would go up and down till he was satisfied he was sitting straight and beautiful. Diner was another highlight at our house. He would "dance and prance" between us and always nudge my wife or a female guest at the most inappropriate place and always on the left side. He loved "people" food. Always gentle and never grabbing from our hands, until he learned to eat from a fork.

Yes, Zacky is gone, he now wears the Silver Harness, but he will never be forgotten, replaced, and no other will ever take the place of Zacky Meet me at the Bridge, and we will travel North, and never to be separated again, I promise.

Why do the ones we love the most leave us so soon. It is not fair, they go before us and leave all to soon.

North of The Rainbow Bridge

The time comes. A Siberian Husky lifts up its head. There is an untested adventure beyond. Time to go.

Across the Rainbow Bridge is a place for all dogs. A river runs wide and shallow with tennis balls that fly with their own wings; that is the place for a Labrador or Golden to await its master's arrival.

The Siberian is not content here. Northward is its trail....

There are soft pastures for Aussies and Border Collies, with sheep and geese to pen. Agility equipment grows like trees amid Frisbees and flyball.

But the North continues its sure wild call, and the Siberian's journey continues....

Now the air is colder. Now the moon is always full. Now the light is silver and it breaks and shimmers on fields of bright snow. Now there are no roads, no walls, no pens, just endless space to run. This is where Siberians gather, North of the Rainbow Bridge.

They wait in this beautiful place, happy, but not complete. Suddenly, a howl begins, as one dog senses someone coming, someone very special. All the Siberians raise their heads and join in the ancient chorus. They dance like moonbeams and sing like winter winds.

There are red ones like dawn streaks, black ones splattered with many colors and silver ones like the first strange hour before light. They line up as if in harness and run together, in a scintillating, many-colored streak. The leader of the team guides the others past the fields and river, with racing feet and racing heart. They rush to greet the new arrival at the Rainbow Bridge, where the leader is rejoined with its beloved person, never to be parted again.

The glory of the reunion is celebrated by all the Siberians dwelling beyond the Bridge, a glimmering, multicolored team leaping and whirling with joy. The light from that scene is what we see on magical evenings in the northernmost parts of this Earth: The Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights beyond the Rainbow Bridge


YukonZack Page Two

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