For the Love of a Dog

I woke up at 2 o'clock this morning because I had to pee. Having done that, I got back into bed. As it goes at times, my mind starting obsessing, racing, non-stop. Now I was tossing and turning. 

Poppy, my Chihuahua, sleeps in bed with me. Because he likes to nestle under the covers and always be touching me, when I move, he moves. Half the time I end up at the edge of the bed with him up against me.

There I was, probably a half an hour into being unable to quiet my mind and get back to sleep, when I feel him giving me dog kisses on my back. I reached behind me and scratched his little neck just for a couple of seconds. He kissed me again. I scratch him again, and so forth. I finally turned over and gently moved him into my arms. Talking quietly to him, I told him how much I love him.

This little bundle, in the middle of the night when I know I am disturbing his sleep, gave me love. While I held and petted him, I talked about what was on my mind. It wasn't for a long time, just a few minutes. Feeling better, I quieted my mind using the tools that always work. All I have to do right now is sleep. I started to meditate and was soon asleep.

Don't ever underestimate the love of a dog. It is so simple and uncomplicated. There are no machinations. Just love.

Roses and Thorns (The completed short story of Rose and Jeff)

PROLOGUE

She could either stay curled up in a ball on her bed or start her day.  One would lead to catharsis and the other to more wallowing in the pain she already felt.  She looked out the window and saw the sun and blue sky.  The cat, which was perched at the end of the bed, got up, stretched, meowed, and jumped down.  Rose watched the feline haughtily walk out of the bedroom.  If the cat could do it, so could she.

Today was going to be the start of the end.  She unfurled herself and laid her head back on the pillows.  As she looked up at the ceiling, she claimed this day the end of guilt, the end of remorse, the end of sorrow, and the end of anger.  Her eyes quickly filled with tears that overflowed onto her cheeks, running down the sides of her face and tickling her ears as their descent slowed and pooled.  She made no sound as she had stopped sobbing so long ago.  Somehow someway she was going to make this pain stop.  She was going to find a way.

Rose wiped her face with her hands as she sat up.  She had lost weight because she hadn't had the energy to eat let alone cook anything.  She felt weak and her long brown hair was a mess of tangles.  Her t-shirt hung off of her shoulders.  Rose lifted her arm, smelled her armpit, and said, “Gross.”

The cat ran back into the bedroom and flying onto the bed came to a quick stop in front of Rose.  She couldn't help but laugh and reaching over petted her.  Rose loved the sound of her cat’s purr.  It was like a little motor boat and the rumble of it represented happiness.

As she swung her legs over the side of the bed Tim’s picture on the dresser seemed to jump out at her in 3D. With a sharp intake of breathe, she refused to again be consumed by her emotions.  She forced her eyes from the photograph to the mirror and this time gasped with disgust.  “Oh my God,” she said as she turned to her cat.  “Lovey, how can you even look at me?”  Lovey answered by rubbing her head against Rose’s arm.

As she walked to the bathroom she peeled off her t-shirt and underwear balling them up and throwing them into the already overflowing hamper.  One arm peeked out from under the lid as if it wasn't ready to say that final goodbye.  The tiles of the bathroom floor felt cool under her feet, solid and sure.  Lovey jumped onto the toilet lid and watched as Rose turned on the shower and tested the water.  Just before climbing in, Rose reached over and tickled Lovey’s chin.

The spray hit the top of her head as she bowed under its stream leaning with both hands on the shower wall.  A flash of memory exploded inside her head.  “You bitch!”  Tim was slurring his words as spittle sprayed from his lips trying to intimidate her by crowding her with his body and height.  Shit.  Breathe.  Breathe through it.  Let it happen and then let it pass.  And so she did.

Rose walked back into the bedroom naked and still wet from the shower.  She no longer felt dirty but she knew the memories would still cause her to feel unclean.  For how long was anyone’s guess.  What did the therapist say?  Everyone grieves at his or her own pace.  What a crock of shit.  Well, maybe it wasn't but she figured she was partly still in the denial stage slowly crawling into the anger stage.  She would rather slide into the acceptance stage like a baseball player slides into home plate.  Sighing, she thought out loud, “This is hard work.”

With patience, Lovey sat in the wicker chair by the window watching Rose pick-up the multitude of dirty clothes off of the floor and then tear the filthy sheets from the bed.  The cat only cracked the whip when hungry.

Rose stuffed everything into the laundry hamper and this time the lid stayed open like a huge yawn.  Laundry will be the next thing she does.  Right after getting dressed.  And eating.  And then blow drying her hair.  Whatever.

As Rose picked out a clean pair of underwear from her dresser drawer, Tim’s picture assaulted her again.  “Dammit!”  She assaulted it back by picking it up and slamming it into the trash can with such violence that the wooden frame flew apart and the glass shattered.  “Fuck you!”  Yep.  The anger phase.

She was breathing hard from the exertion when the next memory lit up her brain.  Fear was squeezing her hard as she wiped his spittle from her face.  Tim’s gait was unsteady as he weaved his way towards the back door grabbing the car keys nearly ripping the hook out of the wall at the same time.  Rose ran up to him and demanded he hand them over to her.  He was in no shape to drive.  All at once he was upon her choking her with his free hand.  “I am not drunk!”

Clarity, just for a second, hit him.  Tim let go of Rose his hand dropping to his side.  She saw remorse and disgust bloom in his eyes.  Quietly he slurred, “I have to go,” and walked out the door.

Her heart was pounding in her chest and sweat slid from her brow into her eyes.  She realized she was sitting on the floor and had no idea when that happened.  Lovey walked over and meowed as she rubbed against Rose’s hip.  Jeez, she still wasn’t dressed.  Her therapist said she had Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder with a topping of panic attacks.  Rose was learning all sorts of new lingo but this was not the kind of education she wanted, although she definitely paid for it.

Sitting at the breakfast nook she drank coffee.  The resulting acid in her empty stomach made her nauseous.  Toast would help.  Rose ended up eating four slices loaded with strawberry jam and butter.  Mmmmmmmmmm….sugary sweetness.

Chapter 1

Rose was standing at the kitchen sink washing the dishes that had been left there from both breakfast and lunch.  Calm in her routine, her hands were warm from the sudsy water.  The cotton dress she wore felt soft on her body and with each gentle gust of wind coming in from the open side door the dress kissed her legs.  Looking out the kitchen window, she smiled as her gaze took in, once again, the open fields that were her backyard.  She would never tire of the scene.  It is what she always wanted and as she watched the tall grass sway in the breeze, peace continued to fill her heart and quiet her mind.

She was lost in thought when she heard his boots on the porch and then the squeak of the screen door.  The smell of newly cut hay walked in with him and with five quick steps Jeff was next to her.  His right arm wrapped around her waist and with his left hand he turned off the sink faucet.  Kissing her on the cheek and then the back of her neck, her body relaxed into his.  Jeff had worked outside all day and sunshine clung to his plaid shirt.

“Hey, Girlie,” he said with both arms now holding her around her waist.  They were in their early 40s but she felt like a teenager again whenever he was close.

“Hey, Big Man.  How’s your day going,” Rose asked as she turned around to face him.  He kept her snug in his arms even when she reached up to unbutton his shirt so that she could run her fingers through his soft curly chest hair that she loved so much.  Rose then rubbed her face where her fingers had been and inhaled deeply.  Jeff always smelled so good to her whether just coming in from a hard day’s work outside or fresh from the shower.  She felt Jeff’s kiss on the top of her head and then his chin as he rested it there.  She knew he was looking out the kitchen window, just as she had been doing, and probably thinking about next week - just as she had been doing.  His surgery loomed large even though they both tried to not let it ruin their time together now.  With that thought she went from light to heavy.

Jeff felt the change and taking her by the arms pushed her away from him just enough to be able to see her face.  Automatically she tilted her head up.  Looking into his soft brown eyes, her smile started off as brave and then crumpled.  Rose’s eyes filled with tears even though she wanted so badly to not give in to the desperation she hated to admit she felt.  She couldn’t imagine life without him.  After all that she survived, she couldn’t lose Jeff.  All of those times when she forced herself to keep going when all she wanted to do was lie down and die – she didn’t know if she would be able to keep going this time.  Jeff tucked her protectively under his arm and they walked down the hall to the bedroom.  Their dog, a big black German Shepard/Black Lab mix named Bill, had watched the whole thing from under the kitchen table.  He got up and padded behind them nails clicking on the tile floor.  It got quiet again when Bill transitioned to the carpeted hallway.  Outside their closed bedroom door, he lied down and rested his big head between his front paws.

Chapter 2

Turning her head to see the clock, Rose was not surprised that it was 6:30 pm.  She was wide awake lying in bed next to Jeff.  He was a quiet sleeper and when they first had overnight visits she would check on him like a mother does her newborn to make sure he was breathing. 

The dog had to be let out and fed.  Dinner had to be made, too, but she didn't want to be out from under Jeff’s embrace.  It felt heavy, strong, and good.  Feeling safe, she looked up at the ceiling and let her mind wander. 

She was back at her old house in her old kitchen eating the toast spread with the sweet jam.  The memory, still so vivid even after the decade had passed, made her mouth water so much she had to swallow.  Rose opened her eyes again, this time to look at Jeff.  The desire to touch his black hair and run her finger down his cheek to his lips immediately possessed her.  Holding the impulse back, more important than indulging herself was not waking him up.  To her, he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.  Even in the dimness of the room she could see his end-of-the-day stubble and she didn't have to touch it now to know its roughness.  He had teased her enough rubbing it against her face.  His broad shoulder made a peak under the summer blanket and she followed the slope to his slim hip down to his feet.  Rose knew every inch of him.  The day he entered her life, the sun came out on a permanent basis. 

From past experience, Rose knew that Bill was just outside the bedroom door and he needed her care, too. 

At the sound of Rose getting out of bed, Bill sat up and stared at the doorknob willing it to turn and the door to open.  Tada!  “C’mon, Bill.  Let’s go out,” said Rose as she knelt down on the floor and gave Bill a big hug around is soft furry neck.  They walked down the hall together, through the kitchen, and out the door.

Rose sat in the same wicker chair from way back when as it was one of the few things she kept from those days and watched Bill make a mad dash to the nearest bush and unceremoniously lift his leg.  It was that eerie but lovely time of early evening when the day creatures start turning in for the night and the nocturnal ones are just getting started. 

How selfish was it of her that as Jeff faced the surgery he needed to save his life she was worried about the possibility of how she would make it without the one she loved. 

As Rose watched Bill in the yard, she thought back to Tim.

Chapter 3

She had loved Tim with every molecule of her body.  From the first time she saw him something fantastic and strange happened and she felt complete.  Those ever present nagging feelings of searching for something, needing something she didn't have immediately disappeared.  Rose thought that night when Tim was so drunk and violent, when he became Mr. Hyde to his Dr. Jekyll, that night when he drove drunk and died, she died with him.  She thought she would never recover from the loss, the guilt, but mostly the pain.  Her silver lining was that he didn't take anyone else’s life but his.   Even so, the pain was overwhelming.  That part of herself that she had finally found, reveled in as it snapped into place inside the core of her, had been ripped from her soul.  Before meeting Tim she knew she was missing something undefinable.  After that awful night, she knew exactly what it was and that she would never have it back.  The incompleteness drilled deeply through her heart and kept going until it gouged a cavern into her humanity.  That was why she had had trouble leaving her bed.  That is why she hadn't cared if she ate or bathed.  Her cat, Lovey, was the only companionship she could tolerate.  Her therapist was the one that pulled her up and helped her to find herself again.

Jeff was the love she thought she would never have, let alone try to find.  He was gentle and kind instead of fireworks and cotton candy.  He was strong and brave.  He was her cowboy and although she did not love him in the same way as she had Tim, she loved Jeff with all of her heart and she knew in her bones that he felt the same way about her. 

Her thoughts had come full circle when she heard Jeff’s footsteps as he reached the screen door.  He walked as if he were a much larger man.  “Hey, Sweetheart.  You ok,” he asked as he looked at her through the mesh.

Rose swiveled in the chair and got up.  “Yep.  Hungry?”

Jeff could always tell when she was thinking back to the time she nearly lost herself.  It made him sad when she tortured herself like that but he would never show her that.  He was her rock and he knew that.  He also knew that she felt guilty about still wanting, no, needing him to be strong now, too.  He wanted to be her man and everything that that required.  He wanted her and loved her.  He needed her as much as he needed to breath. 

Jeff held the screen door open for her and she gave him a kiss on the cheek as she walked past him into the house.  Bill followed behind Rose and Jeff followed behind Bill and closed the door behind them.

EPILOGUE

Rose stiffly sat on a puffy chair in the waiting area that some decorator tried to make cozy.  It was still the hospital and she was still waiting to hear from Jeff’s surgeon so no amount of dreamy colors or soft furniture was ever going to be cozy or comfortable.  She stopped drinking coffee hours ago and switched to diet soda.  When that lost its allure, she sipped on bottled water.  The TV was blah, blah, blah and when she tried reading the words made no sense.  She looked out the window and wished she could at least pace the sidewalk but if she did that she would probably miss the doctor’s arrival.  She hadn't felt this kind of anxiety for many years and was trying to remember the tricks her therapist had taught her.

Upon hearing her name being called, Rose turned away from the window.  She saw that it was Jeff’s doctor and he was smiling. 

You never have to ask

You never have to ask your dog how much he or she loves you.

Poppy snuggling with Senator

Rah-rah!

I am my dog's cheerleader.  When he poops or pees on his puppy pad, I set off the celebratory fireworks and get out my pom-poms.  It is weird.

I always had large dogs.  My whole life, in fact, and that includes when I was a kid.  Wait.  I'm lying.  French poodles are not large dogs but they aren't teeny, either.  They have bladders large enough to hold their pee.

With Poppy everything was different and I had a steep learning curve that required me to sprint up it.  No time to lollygag.  Chihuahuas can't hold it the same way large dogs can.  When told I needed to train him to go on puppy pads, I squidged up my nose.  Say what?  No dog of mine is going to have to use a puppy pad for evah!

Wrong.  It was the best move I made.  It saved the floors that he was peeing on whenever and wherever.  There were no rules.  Walk him at 9:00 where he peed and pooped and then at 9:10 he peed and pooped again in the house at a random location of his choosing.  If it weren't so disgusting it would have been whimsical.

That is why I am his cheerleader when he uses the puppy pads.  It works for us.  I am not ashamed.

It is you I still miss

Folding clothes from the dryer
On the bed with the dog
And his toy

Thinking about one and a half years ago.

Two and a half years ago was the start
I never wanted to part
My soul would tear in two
And bleed when not with you.

The dog walks on the clean shirt
I throw the toy, what a good boy.

Your arms were my nest
The place I found rest
From the outside world of noise.

Then the whole thing changed
Everything was rearranged
Dark gloom descended as
Light backed out the door.

I walked the halls
I bumped into walls
Feeling every misstep and mistake.

No longer willing
No longer able
I asked for your keys
Please put them on the table.

Folded clothes in drawers
Standing, staring at the dog
Bending down for his kiss
It is you I still miss.

I looked like me!

The other day I looked in the mirror as I was leaving the bathroom and I had to go back and look again.  I could see myself after having not been able to for a very long time.  What was it?  The hair? The lighting?

I studied my reflection analytically instead of emotionally.  Different skin tone?  No.  I looked younger.  That was it.

One of the things that I have been consciously doing is actively unburdening myself to the point of throwing out or giving away things that I no longer need, want, or should have.  At first it was a slow process of calculating decisions like math problems.  Now it has become very easy and with that I have found a sense of freedom.  Just the other day I had to make a decision about something in the kitchen and poof!  Into the trash it went.  I shocked myself!  Anyone who has spent any amount of time with me knows that my decision-making process is arduous and painful as I, a typical Libra, will keep looking at all sides of a problem until eventually narrowing it down to the answer. For those that stampede through making up their minds, it is sheer hell until they jump in, take control, and make the decision for me.  Now I am taking control by letting go and it is working.

The small decisions are no more of this, that, and the other and that is making the larger decisions easier.   I am less burdened.

I have also accepted the fact that I talk to the dog, even when he is sleeping.  I laugh at myself and the things around me more often and more easily.  I allow myself to be goofy.  This is how I am, who I am, and I am happier. I like talking in silly voices.  I enjoy making up stories about the people I see.  I like playing the drums on the steering wheel while I listen to the radio in the car.  It's a long drive to and from work, people!

I am nicer to myself and because I am more accepting of myself I find that I am more accepting of others.  My inner voice is softer.  I don't have to listen to lectures anymore.  Instead I am outside on the playground admiring the pretty wildflowers or watching the sky spin as I ride the spinner.

I looked like me!

Love is love is love

Sometimes Poppy likes to be held like a baby.  He nestles in my arms with his little head pressed against my neck and I rub his back.  When he is in my arms like this, I get very peaceful and calm.  I end up softly singing to him while gently rocking back and forth as I sit.  Half the time I think that if anyone saw me doing this they would think I had lost it.  The other half replies, "I don't care."

I held my kids like this.  I sang to them and I rocked them.  With my son it was mostly in the middle of the night when he couldn't get back to sleep.  With my daughter it was mainly trying to get her sleepy enough to take her afternoon nap.  I loved the feel of their small bodies pressed to my chest.  The smell of their heads and the feel of their hair as I tilted my head down to kiss theirs.  When Poppy requests this kind of time with me, I do it as much for him as I do it for me.

The only other person Poppy cuddles with like that is my mother.  When we visit sometimes she walks around her house holding him and talking to him.  He loves it!  My mother calls him, "Pee Wee" or "Peaty".   It's very cute.

When we were having our quiet time this morning, a very clear memory came popped in my head. I was very young and my family was at our summer camp, aka Camp Toothacres because almost every male in our family was a dentist.  Something happened that got me all in a twitter.  My older sister, Reesa, saw it as a golden opportunity to tease me. Since she is three years older I did not have the vocabulary needed to fight back so I screamed at her whatever I could muster.  This was even funnier to her.  I must have been loud enough that my father appeared out of nowhere and scooped me up into his arms, cooed to me, and rubbed my back as he walked with me.  At 53 I can still remember how it felt physically and the sweet relief that washed over my heart and mind. My father was my savior and I was complete.

Reesa tried to tell him why I was awful and he just said that I was little.  That took the wind out of her sails.  Poor Reesa!  As the oldest of 4 children, she was always put in the position of having to understand except when I would bite her but that's a whole other story for another time.

I have a lot of memories of my father.  This is one of my favorites and I think this is why there are princess stories.  Dad was the original prince and as little girls grow up, they want to feel that same kind of love and protection from their mates.

Good Men

Yesterday morning I took Poppy to the vet's office to see if he met the 5 lb minimum weight for Trifexis, a medication that prevents heartworm, kills fleas, and controls worms in one easy pill. It was very busy with the line 3 people deep waiting for the one person left manning the front desk trying to keep his cool while handling all of our needs. 

As Poppy and I waited patiently in line, he vacillated between wanting to be in my arms and wanting to be down on the floor. Up, down, up, down. Well, during one of the "down" times, he decided it was also a good time to poop. A couple barely out of their twenties sitting with a cuddly box of newborn puppies had front row seats. The husband, wearing his Sarasota corrections uniform, said, "I've got this." He walked to the nearby bathroom and brought me out paper towels. I took one, bent down and retrieved the poop and when I stood back up I saw he was standing there with another paper towel in hand. He said, "You can put it here," as he held out his hand. I handed it off to him and he finished taking care of the mess in the bathroom. I think I must have thanked him 5 times.

When he came back out of the bathroom, he walked over to his wife and said, "I washed my hands. Can I see one of the puppies?" She reached in the box and held one up to him and he kissed its little head.

That, my friends, was awe inspiring to me. His wife didn't say, "Honey, go help that woman out." He volunteered for the job because he wanted to, because he could, because he thought it was the right and good thing to do. He was johnny-on-the-spot. To him it was probably in-consequential, but to me it was fantastical! I think my heart even grew a size.

P.S. Poppy weighs 5.1 lbs., or possibly 5.2 lbs. Hard to get a good read on a moving target.

At Home

I ended up bringing the car into the dealership this morning as it was hiccuping. $700 later it is still there being worked on. I can't really complain because they are 2006 original parts that are being replaced and the car has been as solid as a tank. The critters are happy to have their Mom home and we all took a nap together. I also dusted with Poppy watching incite-fully and all-knowing. He was very Zen about it until he took the opportunity to grab the duster and run.

Poppy and the drive thru

Tonight Poppy experienced his first not-so-fast food drive thru.  This is a neighborhood restaurant and not a McDonald's/Burger King type of place but they still have the huge menu and speaker.  

I have to digress here so that you have a more complete picture of the situation.  Poppy and I have a very efficient system for when I am the driver and he is the passenger.  I place him in the passenger seat and then I get in the driver's seat.  We have done this enough that Poppy has learned what "Move over" means.  Time is of the essence with Poppy so he doesn't like to waste it and before I have driven 10 feet he has made his way across the car and has at least his head in my lap.  In just a quick minute he will have his body in my lap and then he scoots his way up my chest and uses my cleavage as a shelf upon which he sits comfortably.  If I am not paying attention, I don't realize what he is doing until his little body is blocking my view of the steering wheel.  That sounds dangerous, you say?  Well of course it is dangerous!  He sticks himself to me as if he is made of Velcro and it takes much coordination on my part to unstick him, place him back in the passenger seat, and keep my eyes on the road.  To answer your next question, I know they make doggie harnesses that keep both driver and dog passenger safe.  One of these days I'll get one.  That is after I have balanced my checkbook and dust.  

I roll down my window and place my order.  Poppy tries to look out my window to see who is there.  Who am I talking to?  Since he is a little Chihuahua, that puzzle will remain unsolved.

We turn the corner to drive around to the side of the building and see that another car is ahead of us and waiting for their meal.  I push Poppy back into the passenger seat, get my purse, pull out my wallet, and feel pretty relaxed as I count out the exact change and bills.  Poppy is quite interested in looking out my window and tries again to crawl up onto my chest.  The car is in Park and my left hand is holding the change, my right is holding the bills.  I let him sit there until we are able to move up to the window.  I gently shove him off of me and once we are in position in front of the window he gently shoves himself back against me.

The restaurant worker slides open the window and just as she repeats the amount I owe Poppy hits the jackpot.  A person.  A person that is very close to the car!  Who said she could be there?  With is teeny Chihuahua bark he lets her know he is the mighty and powerful!  Luckily the girl finds this as funny as I do as I hand her the money.  I place Poppy back in the passenger seat.  As I said, this restaurant isn't trying to be fast so we patiently sit in the car.  Poppy is wondering what the heck is all of this and why are we here and will the lady return?  Soon enough my dinner is passed to me and the car fills up with the smell of food.  Poppy's face quickly turns from curiosity to recognition as the food bag passes over him and is placed onto the floor of the passenger side.  Ohhhhhhh.  So this is why we are here.  How magical!  When can we eat?

 

 

Rose and Jeff continued

Rose took a seat in one of the wicker chairs on the porch as she watched Bill make a mad dash to the nearest bush and lift his leg.  It was that lovely time of early evening when the creatures that are active during the day start getting quiet preparing for the night ahead and the nocturnal ones haven't yet woken up with a yawn and a stretch.  When it was quiet like this and Rose was alone she always ran an internal diagnostic of her feelings and life status.  It was a habit she felt didn't need changing.

Rose and Jeff Continued

Rose turned her head to look at the bedside clock. It was 6:30. The dog had to be fed and let out. Dinner had to be made, too, but she didn't want to be out from under Jeff's arm. If felt heavy, strong, and good. She looked back up at the ceiling and as she indulged her memories she closed her eyes.

She was back at the kitchen table finishing off the toast with jam. Her mouth watered and she had to swallow. She opened her eyes again to survey the room and make sure of her surroundings. She should really get up and take care of the dog. Guilt got the best of her and she slipped out of Jeff's arms.

Bill sat up at the sound of Rose getting out of bed and stared at the doorknob willing it to turn and the door to open. Tada! “C'mon, Bill. Let's go out,” said Rose as she got down and gave Bill a hug around his soft furry neck. They walked down the hall together through the kitchen and out the door.

It's either just the rain or I am actually really pissed off.

I've been living in Florida for one week now.  I have crossed off quite a few of the entries on my list of things that must be accomplished including changing over the tags on my car and transferring my MD driver's license to a FL one.  Last night, despite the three nightmares in a row, I slept in later than 4:30 in the morning.  I'm going to have to learn how to use the DVR because I missed Mr. Ed.

As I'm writing this, I see that it is pouring outside.....again.  No draught here!  Yesterday when I was driving Jesse to the airport to catch his flight back to Baltimore, I nervously drove through a deluge.  I'm sure the intermittent storms are normal for this time of year, but they are bumming me out.  Add to that being pissed off that at 50 I am starting my life over, well, just ask my mother if her tongue isn't shredded yet from biting it.  Yes, I am pissed off and the weather isn't helping.

Those that see the glass as half full tell me that I should look at this as an opportunity for new beginnings that I otherwise wouldn't have.  While I understand this on an intellectual level, my emotions are wearing boxing gloves and mouth guard while dancing around the ring looking for a fight. 

The good news?  Trixie the cat is showing signs of feeling more comfortable around the house when it isn't just me walking around.  Shadow the dog can't wait for Trixie to want to play with him.

Doggie Heaven

I wasn't very brave at the vet's office. I cried in the waiting room, in the exam room, and afterward while writing the check. My final goodbye to Belle included rubbing her head, telling her she was a good girl, and a kiss on the head.


On the drive home a scene popped into my mind's eye. It was like a picture in a coloring book in that the lines were simple and it was composed of only three elements. The sky was robin egg blue and the grass was crayon green. I knew the temperature was just right and the sun was somewhere in the sky. I saw Belle bounding around like she did when she was young and she would play. She was happy and no longer in pain. I felt calm afterward and gained some peace.  Even though some of you will think I've definitely gone off the deep end, I felt I was allowed a glimpse of her in doggie heaven.

RIP Belle

RIP Belle. She's our 11-year oldish Pointer/Doberman/? mix.  Her legs aren't working well anymore and she's in pain.  She's lost quite a bit of muscle mass and her back is somewhat bowed.  It's that time when an owner makes that hard choice.  The only thing making this easier is believing that she is going to see her ole pal Budderbutt who passed before her.

I can still see her sitting pretty in her run at the shelter. I walked through the door to the doggies and spied her immediately.  She looked back at me and that was all it took.  Yes, she was neurotic but how would you be if you had been beaten by some slob and then dropped off because you were thought of as a pain in the ass instead of a loved companion?  Eventually loud noises, sudden movements, and reaching over to pet her stopped causing her to panic. 

We got the submissive urination under control.....for the most part.  Her first year took patience but it was worth it.  Yes, she never lost the habit of sounding the alarm bark because a leaf floated by in front of the window and she had a stubborn streak.  She was prone to ear infections, too. 

But, she was protective and loving.  She was very smart, too, and had a large vocabulary.  She even figured out what we meant when we spelled certain words.  When she was young she had the most beautiful gait and I used to love watching her run around the back yard like a crazy person.  Now just getting up from a prone position is hard work and sometimes not a reachable goal.

I love that dog.  She used to climb up on the bed with me at night and cuddle.  All 80 pounds of her lying right next to me so we touched.  I didn't mind that she always rudely turned her back to me.  I guess it was her way of forcing me to put my arm over her. 

I'm not looking forward to our 7:45 pm visit to the vet's tonight.  I don't want to watch the light leave her eyes but I will be there for her.  She was there for me.