So you're probably familiar with the Rainbow Bridge poem, which envisions someone at death arriving at a field where all the animals they've ever loved are waiting for them, so that they can all cross over the Rainbow Bridge together.

It is commonly used in condolence cards sent when someone loses a pet.

Anyway, the weird implicit assumption of this poem is that your dogs and cats will predecease you.

This is not always true.

My mother-in-law died in 2005. She and my father-in-law had bred, raised, trained, and raced sled dogs (in suburban Boston) so needless to say she left behind a LOT of dogs. Also my father-in-law, so fortunately there was someone to take care of them.

Some years later, one of MIL's favorite dogs died of old age. When the huskies got too old to pull a sled, the particularly personable ones got obedience-trained because MIL liked a challenge, and Kalima was one of her absolute favorite dogs.

I was sorry to hear about Kalima, but immediately imagined her arriving at the Rainbow Bridge, and encountering my MIL with a clipboard and a LIST.

And MIL making a check mark, saying "about time you showed up," and sitting back down with a cigarette to wait for the rest.

My FIL died in 2011, and all the dogs are long gone.

But we got news from New England today:

MIL's horse, Major, has passed away. He was in his 30s. (Morgans live long lives. Major had a long, happy, well-loved life.)

Anyway.

I think it's probably safe to figure that my mother-in-law, 15 years after her death, has now crossed the Rainbow Bridge, along with a truly breathtaking array of animals.

Here is a picture of Major with Kiera. (He loved giving rides to kids, because he was smart enough to figure out that kids are SMALL and LIGHT and EASY TO CARRY.)