by Steve Chapman

Created on: February 28, 2010   Last Updated: March 02, 2010

Prior to January 7th, 2009, I could not hear it. But on that day, witnessing Sundance lose his young life, the pain both broke and opened my heart in a way I have never known and I will never be the same again.

In the days since, as I have turned full face and on my face, to our God, I have learned there is a God given sound which is perfect. It is the sound of creations symphony, in which every creature and every life is essential, and plays the instrument given by our creator. As I began to hear it after losing Sundance, I also struggled to deal with other sounds, like those of heartache, yearning and loss.

The love between human beings, pets, and animals mirrors the perfect and unconditional love of GOD, our creator. I never knew the depth of love between animals and people because I had not experienced it. I now understand it is a kinship and connection which has joined Sundance to my heart, soul, and spirit.

Sundance, for the year he was with us, gave me gifts and helped me heal in areas I have always kept hidden. He tore down and crumbled a fortress around my heart, built long ago, fully exposing it for the first time the day I saw his face. I needed him, and I needed what he has given me in his death. He has shown me the way back to my God, and the sound of the symphony. He has shown me, through his death, the depth and magnitude of suffering when a pet or animal we love is lost. Until I lost him and began a desperate search for hope and comfort, I had never heard stories such as these:

A grown man crying as he held the stray cat he had taken in and had come to love, a cat that was sick and dying. Hearing him describe his anguish and his grief stricken cries. Listening to him describe his helplessness as he held the cat while it looked at him as if to say, "why are you trying to hurt me?" This man screamed in the agony of not being able to tell his dying friend that his actions, which seemed hurtful, were really a desperate attempt to administer help. Sitting in a patio chair, a man of 50 years old cried freely and openly through the eyes of a child and held his small friend as it quietly went home. The symphony, of which he is a part, must play on perfectly and drown out the dark sound of grief with sounds so beautiful that the dark sounds of loss are overcome forever.

 I had never heard the the depth of pain in comments such as, "I had to have my horse put down and I don't know how to go on" or, "I had to put

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