Lumo

Yesterday, our gentle giant, Lumo, slipped away from us after a short illness, leaving hearts aching in a way words can hardly carry. He was a great big Saint Bernard , bigger than most, but it was his heart that truly set him apart. You’d hear folks say, “Ah, there’s Lumo, the the softest soul in the parish,” and they’d be right. From the day he bounded into our lives, paws far too big for his body, Lumo brought a warmth to every corner of the house. He had a way of leaning his heavy head against your knee, like he was reminding you to breathe, to slow down, to just be. And sure, he loved a good stroll down the lane, tail wagging like a banner in the wind, greeting every neighbour as though they were family. Yesterday morning, the world seemed quieter somehow. He’d fought his illness bravely, God love him, but the time came for him to rest. We held him close, whispering soft words and stroking that big, gentle head until he drifted away, peaceful as you'd like. The garden feels empty now without his grand shadow stretching across it, and the house is quieter than it ought to be. But Lumo’s pawprints are pressed deep into our hearts and we’ll carry his memory with us always. Rest easy now, big lad. The fields beyond the rainbow bridge will suit you well,and we’ll meet you there someday, with pockets full of treats and arms wide open. Sleep well, Lumo. You were one of the very best.