The pet loss poem on the front is as follows: Just the other side of death’s curtain are the Summerlands. All the pets who have died go through this curtain and though they can still watch us, we can’t see them. Sometimes the curtain is thin in places and we catch a glimpse of our lost companion waiting on the other side. Sometimes the curtain twitches as they look through at us and we can feel them or feel a sudden draft as the curtain falls back into place. The Summerlands exist in the long, lazy late afternoons of an eternal golden summer of remembered childhood; the time when everything seems most alive and sweetest smelling. Our animals are young again and turned to perfect health. There is always space and time to play and love, places to be with others and places to be alone together. When our time comes, the curtain is lifted from our eyes and we can see the Summerlands ourselves. Waiting there for us are the animals and people we loved in life and we can see them clearly at last. The has come for us to move away from the curtain and renew these interrupted friendships. Sometimes we can’t help but take a peek through the curtain just to see how our own loved ones are doing before they come to join us. ~ by Sarah Hartwell ~