Is It Really September?

I have not posted anything here in ages. Months and months have passed. The world kept turning, and I didn’t reach out with any of my wit, questionable wisdom, or insights on my little world. I would love to say so much has happened, I have jam packed my life with thrills to the point that I just didn’t have the time to write. That is far from the truth, I live a pretty average life that has gone along without too much fanfare. Even that isn’t quite true, however. Some stuff has gone on, I will throw a little of that at you, just to keep up.

Back in April, I had to make an awful decision to let my sweet Zelda cross the Rainbow Bridge. She just got old, so fast, it still makes my head spin. For years, when I get ready to go to work in the mornings, I would have a little talk with Zelda as I dried my hair. I would tell her I love her, and make her promise to let me know when she was ready, even though I would never be ready. She would tolerate my attempt at snuggles, brush me off, and we went about our days. On a Wednesday, we went on our walk, after work but before dinner, and she was good until about a block and a half from home. She slowed down, way down. Now, this is a game she would play at times, when she wanted to keep going instead of get home. But it was different, and I knew it. She got home, plopped down, and barely moved plus she would not eat. Girl loved to eat like I like to eat, so I knew something was wrong. She wouldn’t try to get up on the bed with me that night, and I got that sick, awful feeling. The next day she was a little more active, but wouldn’t eat her food. She had a bite of the chicken I had for dinner, but that was it, and she didn’t move around much other than going outside. I was sick. I told myself it was time, but I was a wreck. I was near tears all night, slept near her on the couch. I made the call the next morning, and we had one more night together, and a nice walk the Saturday morning that we took her in. My niece and nephew went with me, they were her friends since they were still kiddos, and it meant the world to me. Their kindness and empathy that morning will never, ever be forgotten. It went fast, those few days, but she kept her promise that I made her make all those mornings, she let me know, and it was the right thing to do, so as sad I have been, I know I did right by her.

People ask, will you get another dog? I said, I absolutely will, but it might take time. It took a month. I just hated coming home to the emptiness she left behind. She was such a whack job, but she was there, every day for me. She made my life difficult at times, because she was a head case. She kind of hated almost everyone, as I have discussed previously. But she loved me, and that made it all worth it. After about 3 weeks, I had been looking at dogs online, and was getting the courage to go meet one or two, to see how I was doing. It was a Saturday morning, and I was getting my courage up, and my cousin came by to get some ferns out of my back yard. She brought her Grand Dog, a chocolate lab, and he ran around and played fetch with me while she dug out the plants she wanted. It was great, but it made me know it wasn’t quite time. I didn’t go that day. Chickened out. But, I knew I was getting better, closer. I sat on it for another week, kept going online to look at rescues, and by Wednesday of that next week, made my plan for the Saturday visiting hours. I did go that day, with a list of 3 of the dogs that I was interested in meeting. When I got there, I talked to the adoption team, and we ruled out one dog, based on her documented separation anxiety. I didn’t want to entertain meeting a dog that wouldn’t work with my single status and being gone a lot of the day to work. So, I met the 2 other dogs. Both were sweet, and one was about 3 years old, the other a little over a year. They don’t tell you a lot about them, because they don’t necessarily know their whole background. But they give you an idea from foster notes, so you can get a feel. Those shelter volunteers are good too, they steer you right into a decision. I picked the little black doggo, the one year old. I could have taken him home that day, but I had to pump the brakes a little. I paid a small promise deposit, and went home to think about what I was doing. I stopped over at my brother’s house, and showed them his picture. That was key, because any doubts I may have been having got swept up in enthusiasm and “when can we go get him?”

Thursday, after work, I went and picked up my new buddy. My sister-in-law Heidi thankfully came along, and helped with my anxiety about it, and his too, because he would not get in the car at first. It was like a hostage situation for the ride home. But when he got home, he knew it was a good place because he plopped right down and sighed, like he had never known a moment without chaos in his little heart. Heidi is the best, because she made and enacted the plan that would be his place in our lives very quickly.

His name at the shelter was Dash. Not a bad name, but I just didn’t think it was a life name. So after talking a few names over, I settled on Papi, after my dear friend Marco whom I have written about here many times. He was a big influence on my life, and I think this little guy will be too. And he is. He is such a good boy, very different than his sister Zelda, he does not display quite as much Cujo styled aggression, and he is quite the velcro snuggle buddy. He spends his days while I am at work over by Paul and Heidi and their dogs. But he is a true rescue that has some issues, and we are learning together what is right for us. But, much like Zelda before him, he pops up while I dry my hair each morning, and lets me have a moment in his busy dog day to tell him I love him, and promise he will let me know what he needs as we travel along together in this life. It’s lovely symmetry, and I want to thank Zelda for sending him my way, because they say your old dog will send you the next one. She chose pretty well, I think.