Tag: dogs

Who Was a Good Leader?

Dear Ravi,

This was the WordPress prompt for the day. Now, some people may think I would select Obama, or as a best former president, Jimmy Carter. Goodness knows I will wax rhapsodic about both of these gentlemen. My choice, however, goes to a certain little red merle girl who was born into my hands and became your best friend forever, Rosie.

Rosie was Ravi’s Australian Shepherd service dog. Her mama, Zuli, decided to give birth while Myra and I were on a trip out to the country to do some dog training. We were having lunch and Zuli, who was very pregnant at the time, suddenly gave one woof and trotted off towards the van. A few minutes later Myra decided to follow her. A few minutes after that I followed Myra. Zuli had hopped into the back of the van and promptly popped out a puppy just as Myra walked up. Surprise! (We thought Zuli was not due for another 3 or 4 days.) Right after that Zuli pushed again and a tiny red merle female landed in my hands. At that point, we decided we were better off in the cabin, where Zuli promptly delivered another puppy. There was no running water in the cabin, so we headed for home. Halfway there I heard a new noise. Another puppy had joined the pack. When we got to Myra’s place, we put the proud mama and the three puppies in a whelping pen (a kiddie pool full of newspaper) and I ran home to take a quick shower. I realized I was covered in mud, dirt, amniotic fluid, and blood. In record time I took a shower and went speeding back over the Myra’s place to find not three but seven puppies happily nursing! We spent hours cooing over the puppies and telling Zuli what a good job that she did.

A few weeks later Myra had to go out of town, so the puppies moved into my kitchen, whelping pen and all. They were growing fast and furious and were curious about everything. Realizing they were outgrowing their first home, I bought an X pen and set it up in the kitchen. I put all the puppies inside and started to walk away to put Zuli outside. I looked back and the little red merle girl I had delivered was determinedly scaling the wall of the four-foot X pen. She got herself to the top, hesitated for a moment, then heaved herself into space. She hit the floor on all four paws and began toddling after me. That was when I knew that she had chosen me to be her dog and thus began over twelve years of an absolute love affair. I named her Rosie.

Out of the litter, Rosie chose me and Gracie chose Myra. The other puppies all went to families who wanted a good working dog for agility, service, or herding. Myra and I spent years training the two sisters side by side. Though they had identical training routines, ultimately, Gracie decided she wanted to be an agility dog and Rosie decided she wanted to be your service dog.

Rosie not only became your service dog, but she also became the household manager. She woke you up every morning. She told me when it was her mealtime and ours. She waited with you for the bus and alerted me when it came. When the bus returned seven hours later, she would once again alert me. She was an amazing tracking dog and could find you whenever you chose to wander off. When I took her running, she was fiercely protective of me. I could run at all hours of the day or night and knew that I was perfectly safe. If you were having a hard time, she would lie on top of you and give you deep pressure. You shared all your food with her. She was very good about never taking food when she was working and had her vest on, but at home she could never resist a treat or any fallout from your plate. For twelve years she was an integral part of your life and the entire household. Tragically, she died suddenly of liver cancer long before we were ready for her to go. She was born into my hands and passed from this life in my arms. I think that there is symmetry to that.

So, my best beloved, that is my choice for who was the best leader, and I think that you would agree with me. Rosie was your best buddy from the time you were four until you were sixteen. We both grieved her death immensely. She was the leader of the household pack, your best friend, and my wing woman. Though other aussies have come after her, she was truly our heart dog. I know that you and she are romping on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge, sharing all the treats, and having a marvelous time. Love you forever, see you both someday, and we will all go for a long walk. Love, Mom.

Just Dreaming

Dear Ravi,

Last night I had the most amazing dream. In the dream I was in a space I had never seen before. It was definitely not earth, but I don’t know where it was. I was surrounded by happy throngs of people and dogs. Everyone was very at ease. I looked for my dogs and I looked for you. Nothing. Then it occurred to me that maybe I needed to speak a name to call them forth. I looked at all the dogs and called for Rosie. Suddenly, she and Raya showed up! I was not surprised to see Raya, as she is part of my every day life, but I have not seen Rosie since I lost her over 9 years ago. Both dogs appeared before me, in the peak of health. We played together and I showered them with kisses. I wondered if I called your name is you would appear. In a voice barely above a whisper, I called to you. “Ravi.” Just then a big yellow school bus pulled up and your hopped off! I ran to you and held you in my arms. You were real, alive, whole, and healthy. Interestingly, you did not have Sam. You did not speak with mouth words, but you did not need to. We just held each other and that was enough. The dream fades out about then, but I awoke both ecstatic and devastated. I guess that is how grief and dreams work.

Your daddy and I enjoying a very quiet day. We walked the dogs 5 miles before the incoming blizzard and have kept to ourselves. I have no need to interact with the outside world. It is too wild and busy and confusing. I feel safe at home and walking the blocks that I walked so often with you. I like looking at the Christmas decorations but have no urge to have any of my own. Our house looks like it always did. It is homey, full of books, music, pets, and a lot of fur. It looks comfortable and lived in. A place where people can relax and be their truest selves. All are welcome.

I am glad that you and Rosie are together. She was your best buddy from the time you were 4 until you were 16. I miss her. I love Jack Jack, Gloria, and Raya, but I miss Rosie. She was my heart dog, and she took excellent care of you. I am busy looking for part time employment since my last client turned out to be a certifiable nut case. I can put up with a lot, but I can’t put up with dishonesty. I finally got my paycheck for 55 hours of work, cut contacts and walked away. As you know, I do not know do well with extra time on my hands. I have to be busy and productive, hopefully helping others. In your memory, I want to make the world a better place. We are expecting a blizzard tomorrow. You never had much use for snow or cold weather, but we always had fun snuggling on the couch and hanging out with Sam.

I miss you Ravi. Today is one of those heavy grief days. I could tell as soon as I opened my eyes that today was going to be rough. Please look after your Uncle Rob and your Mercury. They are both having a tough time. We hope and pray for reconciliation with Mercury, but there are so many factors, many of them family, working against us. Someday, we hope that they will reach out.

I know you and Rosie are dancing in heaven, free of pain, fear, and cancer. I wish that I could dance with you. I will continue to work in your memory. Love you to the moon and back. You were a very good human. Mom.