Tag: pets

There Appears to have been a Struggle

Dear Ravi,

Every day I get a new writing prompt which I do not usually bother to read or follow. Today was different. The prompt was What is your Home Decorating Style? This strikes me as funny. I didn’t know that I had a home decorating style. My home is decorated by pets, both furry and quilled, copious amounts of books, music, CDs and an upright piano.. The house is over 100 years old and comes equipped with its own poltergeist. The floors and furniture are tastefully decorated with a heavy layer of dog fur. It does not matter how often I vacuum or sweep, the fur always returns. In the wet or snowy seasons, the back entry way is decorated with little paw prints. The windows are graciously covered in little doggie nose prints. One can walk into our house and feel that some sort of epic struggle went on right before one darkened the door. Was the struggle with a dog, a cat, a hedgehog, the poltergeist? No one knows and the animals are not talking. The ghost offered no comment and flitted off.

When people walk into our home, I want them to feel comfortable. We have inviting chairs and interesting things to read or look at. We are not formal at all. 24 years ago, you taught me just to roll with the curveballs that life lobs at me and I have followed your lead ever since. We set up this home so you and your sibling Mercury would feel safe and loved. Your artwork was on the fridge. Swings hung from various entry ways and in the basement. Until you outgrew it there was always a mini trampoline on hand, in case someone had an irrepressible urge to bounce. Martha Steward would clutch her pearls if she saw my kitchen. It is set up for the convenience of your daddy and me and our collection of pets. My reading chair in in the corner under the windows and the cat has tastefully decorated the chair with his very own claws, thank you Nikki.

Anyway, this prompt made me laugh and do some writing for fun. I have spent all day working on your manuscript, a plot synopsis and a letter of query. I enjoy this kind of cerebral work. I am delighted that 7 weeks out of surgery I can now focus for hours at a time. It was also refreshing to write something completely different!

Daddy just got home from the airfield. He is very happy because he was aloft for 2 hours and 53 minutes. There was no wind here, but there was good lift out at Stanton. He is now busy rehydrating. Gloria is happy that we are both in the same room and she does not have herd anyone. Raya is happy because Gloria is having a moment of calm. Anyway, just wanted to touch base. I will talk to Jenn tomorrow about being a bereavement peer and when I can do the necessary training. For tonight, however, I will be a creature of leisure, happy in our comfortable home. Love you forever. Mom.

Democracy running!

Dear Ravi,

Yesterday I was walking the dogs in the neighborhood. As we were crossing Snelling Avenue a familiar looking man was coming the other way. He waved, smiled, said hi, and complimented our dogs. Suddenly, I realized who the smiling man was, Tim Walz, our governor! He was just out for a run, like any normal person would do on such a lovely day. We grinned, said hi, and went on our way. Ravi, he is a really good governor. He is the reason all public-school children in Minnesota get free breakfast and lunch every day. He was a high school history teacher and a football coach. His son, Gus, went to our local high school. The Walz family is about as Minnesotan as one can get. I am proud that we voted for him. I am sorry he is not our vice president. He and Kamala would have done such a good job for our country. If you are looking down from heaven right now, things are more than a bit of a mess. We could use some peaceful divine intervention.

Early this morning I went out to check on your trees. They survived the winter and are starting to put out shy little buds. They still have the bunny bumpers around their trunks as our yard is full of rabbits and I do not trust them. The basil plant made a brave comeback, but the rodents are busy nibbling it. The daffodils in the side yard are about to open up. Even though it may be chilly this weekend, spring is definitely on the way.

The dogs woke me up early this morning, so I decided to write to you and then continue to edit our manuscript. Your daddy is sleeping the sleep of the just. The dogs, having gotten me up, have now returned to bed. So, things are about the way they always were, minus you. Still no word about your sibling, other than that they made a terrible mistake and got married back in February. I know that they did not finish college, and I doubt very much that they have a decent job. It’s been over 3 years since they left in a fit of pique. I wonder if they will ever return. If you have any great wisdom for me, I would love to hear it. You always could pick up someone’s vibe; it they were a good person or not. You and Mercury were never close. Perhaps you had your reasons. Anyway, I am going return to our manuscript. I love you forever, Mom.

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.