Djinn, my first dob
died on
01- 08 - 02

Here’s to you Djinn, my first, so precious Doberman bitch, here’s to you, who helped me fight a terrible illness. You’re the reason that I’m still alive; I cannot thank you enough!!!

Little Fox said: "But what happens when we’re dead? Will you still love me?
Does love carry on?"
His mother cradled him against her as they watched the night, the moon in darkness and the stars shining.
"Look at the stars, Little Fox, how they twinkle and glitter! Some of them have been dead for a long time, but they’re still shining in the night sky because, as you can see, Little Fox, Love, like the stars, never dies...."



"Do not cry if you love me"

"Death is nothing at all.
I have simply slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were for each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect, without the ghost of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was: there is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind,
Because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner....
All is well.....
You will find my heart again, you will rediscover its pure affection.
Dry your tears and do not cry if you love me."

Saint Augustine


Djinn & Maiway

Djinn & Maiway

Djinn & Maiway

Maiway, Ayrton & Djinn

"But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life . I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."

"... And when the hour of his departure drew near--
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."