Silent Screams (and other odd sounds)

This is what I'm thinking RIGHT NOW. It may not be what I'm thinking tomorrow.


1 Comment

Right Now

Currently, I have a 5 month old male Doberman puppy and a 10 year old male Yorkshire Terrier.  Each of my men have very distinct personalities; my puppy is moving continuously and getting into everything under the sun and my old man is more calm and sedate and prefers an afternoon nap rather than chase a ball endlessly in the yard.  It goes without saying, of course, that they look entirely different.  There is one trait; however, that they share.  Both of my men live in the “now”.  In fact, every animal I’ve ever loved lived in the “now.”  They have no care what happened yesterday or what may or may not happen tomorrow; they are fully focused on what is happening in the moment that they are in.  They fully enjoy life in all its majesty.

Living in the “now” is something I have a hard time doing.  I live in the future of what might be, I live in the past of what once was, but I rarely live in the present.  Generally speaking, I may laugh tomorrow over what was said today because I was too busy thinking of what happened yesterday.  Life is happening all around me but I will experience it tomorrow.  What if my tomorrow never arrives?

So many pleasures are missed when we don’t experience, in the present, what is happening right at this moment.  How many times have I missed the feel of a snowflake on my eyelashes or the sun as it warms my skin?  A few months ago as I was stepping out of my car, a slight wind kicked up and blew a shower of colorful autumn leaves down from the trees.  I stood in awe at the spectacle before me.  The sight was truly a gift from God.  A few weeks later my puppy went out in the snow for the first time; as the snow fell from the sky he examined each snowflake as if he would never behold a sight such as this again.  He was right there, in the moment.  When the the trees rained their leaves around me, I was right there – in the moment.

I need to be in the moment more often.  I need to remember vividly those things that can not be bought, borrowed or stolen.  I can only remember those things if I experience them in the now.


1 Comment

A Heart Still Broken

It has been 3 months and 8 days since my baby girl Faith left me for another world and it has been 1 month and 8 days since my Red King Rory left me to be at her side.

On good days I see them playing together in an open field.  Faith is running with her hair flying around her and the Red King is at her heels protecting her from all sorts of harm.  After a little while, they stop under a big oak tree and Rory stretches out his long body while Faith curls up near his nose, her body almost as big as his head.  They momentarily look at each other and then close their eyes.  My eyes strain not to close just so I can envision them longer, but soon the vision fades and the realization that they have both entered a grander plane floods me.  I should be happy for them but I have to shamefully admit that my heart remains broken.  It seems I can not fully adjust.

Faith’s death was painful but understood.  She had been ill for quite some time and when her final end came, it was not unexpected.  I was able to mourn her loss but still understand that she was made whole after her death.  Rory’s death was untimely, unexpected and much more painful.  He was playing in the yard, collapsed and was gone within seconds.  I didn’t have a chance to hold him like I held Faith during her last few minutes of life with me.  I was not able to sing to him the song I sang to Faith as I rocked her in my arms when she took her last breath.  I was only able to hold Rory close to me after he died and kiss his nose as I so often kissed it when he slept; but this time I knew he would never wake.  I cried out to God, but he wanted Rory for himself or he knew what Rory’s destiny would be if he had not died that day.

After reading all I could about how to “get over” the death of a pet, I took some advice and two weeks after the death of Rory, I bought a puppy.  Wyatt, is the new addition to my house.  He is the same breed as Rory but I have to sadly admit that I do not feel for him what I felt for Rory.  Right now, when I look at Wyatt, I see a beautiful Doberman Pinscher puppy that is so eager to please and be playful; but there are times when I look at him, all I feel a deep feeling of  loss for the companionship that Rory gave to me. If the truth be told, today, I would trade this little eager puppy for one more day with my Red King.

I did what was suggested and bought a puppy; not to replace Rory but to help heal myself from the pain.  I should have waited.  I pray that someday I will be able to give Wyatt the love he so richly deserves.

Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together….

Author unknown…


 


3 Comments

In a Heartbeat – Man’s Best Friend

When my oldest daughter finished her residency and was able to devote time to a pet, we started to search for the “perfect” pet for her.  Since she was going to live alone, she decided a dog that would afford some protection would be a good idea.  Since I had owned a Doberman Pinscher previously, I suggested that perhaps that type of dog would be a good one to consider.  I knew Doberman’s to be protective as well as loving.  They are often called “velcro” dogs because they tend to stick to the owner like glue.  My daughter said she’d consider one but wanted to see a few first.

We went to a reputable breeder who breeds Doberman’s not for profit but for the love of the breed.  On the premises were 6 adult Dobermans:  2 black, 2 red, 1 blue, and 1 fawn.  All of the dogs ran freely on her property so it wasn’t surprising that they all met us as we pulled in to the driveway.  They barked briefly to alert the owner of the property to our presence but then stood and looked at us warily.  It wasn’t until the owner came out of the house that we made the first move to get out of the car upon the owner’s assurance that the beasts before us would cause us no harm.

The breeder took us into the house where a massive black Doberman met us at the door, sniffed and then turned away.  In a large box in the corner of the room was a red Dobergirl guarding her Doberpuppies.  The breeder quickly let the Doberpuppies loose in the  house but kept the Dobermom in the corner.  As the breeder explained to my daughter exactly what Dobermans are like as a pet, one of the puppies came and sat near my feet.  He had the biggest paws I had ever seen on a Doberman and his legs were lanky and clumsy.  As the other Doberpuppies tried to gather at my feet to see what this visitor was all about, the Doberpuppy with the big paws kept every other puppy at bay.  He would not let any other puppy near me.  The breeder joked about him not letting me go home without him and I just laughed knowing that I didn’t need a big goofy Doberman to chase my two small Yorkies into a frenzy.

Since my daughter didn’t want a puppy for a few months, we looked at the Dobergirl who was due in about 5 months.  She had been breeded to the massive Doberman who met us at the door – so had the goofy, big pawed- red dog that wouldn’t let any other Doberpuppy near me.  We left that day with a lot of information.  My daughter left with the breeders phone number and the due date of the Dobergirl about to give birth.  I left with the goofy red dog who would later look like this:

My husband was not a happy camper when I brought Rory home.  He complained that he cost too much, he was too big for the Yorkies, and he would eat us out of house and home.  He was right, I was wrong.  Rory stayed and moved into our hearts.

As with most Dobermans, Rory quickly became the classic “velcro” dog.  He followed whoever was being the most active at the time.  He especially watched closely his blue ball, which became his constant appendage.  He never went anywhere without it.  He even slept with it.  A trait so endearing, that we couldn’t help but make sure he had two or three blue balls all the time, just in case one met with an untimely demise.

Soon, Rory took over my husband’s heart and the two developed a routine.  The routine was:  What Rory wants, Rory gets.  Rory waited patiently for my husband to get home from work, but the minute he walked into the house Rory would grab his blue ball and demand that my husband play with him.  Of course, my husband would call him a big red ass or say some other un-flattering name but Rory was persistent.  If he didn’t get the attention he wanted right then, he would thump my husband in the leg with his blue ball.  The exchange was a ritual and fun to watch.  Rory demanded attention.  He felt he had to the be center of our world because, after all, we were the center of his.

In a heartbeat, the attachment occurs:  the love between a dog and his master.  If the truth be told, I am unsure in a human/canine relationship who exactly the master is.  I’m pretty sure it is not the human.  Rory was the master of us all.  He played us like a finely tuned violin.  Rory pouted if he didn’t get his way, whined if you didn’t pay attention to him, caused mischief with the Yorkies at times and was the best friend a person could have.  He was more than canine, he was more than human, he was …Rory – The Red King.  Rory was a part of the family and lived in our every heartbeat.

After a long day, Rory felt it was his right to stretch out on the sofa and relax after a long tedious day of playing and protecting the homestead.  Of course, his blue ball was always close at hand.  At 120 lbs, Rory still thought he was a lap dog.  If able, he would cuddle up as close as possible as if to warm his body with ours.  An annoying, but endearing quality all at the same time.

Yesterday, while running and playing outside; something he loved to do, Rory left us in a heartbeat.  He was running and playing and then all of a sudden he looked up, collapsed and his spirit soared into the universe.  He left my world to enter another dimension.

Red Dog had a good life.  Red Dog had a happy life. Red Dog had a short 4 1/2 year life.  Red Dog will be remembered by me always.  I miss him more than words can say.

I love you Red Dog, Red King, Red Drooley…….  I love you Rory.


Leave a comment

I Don’t Like Brown Eggs

I don’t like brown eggs.  Eggs should be white with the “EB” stamp on them.  My father likes brown eggs.  He tells me they taste fresher; I don’t believe him when he says that.  Chickens lay white eggs; if they lay brown eggs the chickens are probably bad.  I don’t want to eat brown eggs from bad chickens.

I don’t like to go grocery shopping either.  Since I don’t like to shop for groceries, I usually go about once a month; which means I have two grocery carts full of groceries.   It takes me about 3 hours to shop for food.  I hate it and its a waste of time.  My husband likes to grocery shop.  He tells me its relaxing; I don’t believe him when he says that.  Pushing around two huge shopping carts loaded with groceries is not my idea of relaxing.

My grocery bags do no look like this when I bring them home.  The only time I’ve ever seen groceries look like this is in the movies.  Only people who live in New York City and are in the movies have grocery bags that look perfect.

My grocery bags look more like this….

My children used to love washing the dogs…until they grew up.  They used to tell me how much fun it was to wash the dogs and get all wet.  I didn’t believe my children when they told me that.  The only time washing a dog is fun is when you actually take them to the groomer.

Washing a dog might be a little more tolerable if  you could do it this way…..

Why do people eat brown eggs?  I just can’t figure it out.


1 Comment

You Treat Me Like a Dog!

I wish someone would treat me like a dog.  I look at my three dogs and think they have got to have the best life of anyone I know.  They get their hair done every 6 weeks.  They don’t have to shower every day but get bathed when they need it.  They don’t have to brush their own hair; someone else does that for them.  They get their ears scratched and their backs rubbed more in one day then I do in a year.  They get to run naked outside.  They get taken to their doctors at regular intervals and don’t have to worry about the bill. What more could anyone want?  Please, treat me like a dog!

One more thing.  Have you ever heard of a dog who had to clean up human poop?  I don’t think I have; but I have heard of many people cleaning up dog poop.