It is so fricken hard for me to write. When I write I have to share my feelings. I can’t write fiction. I can’t tell made up stories easily. So when I write it is going to come from the heart, it will not be planned. It will be “worn on my sleeve worthy.” Writing will be cathartic, and painful, and glorious, and revealing, and confusing, and sometimes just flat out a pain in the ass… because it so often comes from a pain in the heart. I hate to write….. no I love to write.
Have you ever been surprised by what you have become.. I certainly am surprised by both my changes AND my stay the sames over the past few years…
My biggest “change”. It’s raining Dogs and Cats. Came to Tulsa 2 1/2 years ago with Tank. Tank was going to be it… the “remnant” from the passing of my wife. One day I would be dogless, or so I thought.
But now there are three, Fred and Shelly have stories to tell, and someday I will give them voice.. oh yeah and the 16 foster dogs… 14 are gone now, all to new forever homes, but 2 new ones came here about a week ago… Morey and Annie. You are no longer at the mercy of a Dog Hoarder and just 2 of 50. Welcome to Casa Canine.
Oh and the 3 feral cats, Survivor, Thor, and Jimbo. All waiting for daily meals. All captured and neutered. And really not Feral any longer. Yet another topic for later days
Hey, I just thought of something. It’s almost summer. I use to love to go to the swimming pool as I was growing up in Kansas City. Ward Parkway Country Club. It was really just a big pool, very big, with diving boards, and platforms, and Olympic sized swim lanes, and high school girls in bikinis, and lifeguards, and snack shop and high school girls in bikinis. I grew of in the time of “she wore and itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini” It was a time when NO one had a heated pool, so the water would warm to the sun during the day. But in the morning, when the pool first opened for the day, it was toe in the water time. Brrrrr. And then you would back away from the edge… and 3-4 quick steps (don’t run at the pool) forward and splash, woosh, submerged and surround for the chilly moment, eyes open under water, looking to the sky, breaking above the water line, gasping for some air… and relax. The water was great. The day had begun. It would last for hours. Toe in the water, regardless of the temperature, there was always a splash entry. Oh, and the girls in bikinis.
Did I mention that it rained all day and into the night in Tulsa last evening. Well it did. And I learned something. Don’t feed your dogs on a rainy day. I might have been able to avoid the houseful of presents left my by overfed dogs had I not had two in the house breaking stages, but Morey and Annie do NOT like to get their paws wet. So last night I did “push” my dogs to the sheltered back porch, walked them out to the back yard where they walked like they were fire walking on a bed of hot coals. Then I left them unattended and spent some time on the computer. When I opened the porch door they were all quite ready to come in. I really did not notice that none of their backs was very wet. And apparently there was a “who’s poo is bigger contest” last night when I wasn’t looking. 4 piles, 2 new dogs, 2 smirking dogs, and one who was apparently constipated or did not know the contest rules. So this morning when I let them out… out I went too. I was going to get my paws wet along with them until they made a commitment to the wet lawn. Mission accomplished, splashdown.
So why all this prelude to what I wanted truly right about. Well I needed to slip the pen slowly into the inkwell. Today is a day of grief. No I have known all week that this in the two year anniversary of my mother’s passing. Thought I would make it through without much consequence. I have now one in Tulsa to share my heart with… I have great friends, but just a simple post on facebook would trigger the appropriate greetings and salutations. I would move on. No splash needed. I took a picture of a rose in my backyard and “moved on”
And then it happened. It always happens when it does. My beloved friend Jennine called from New Mexico. Happens 2-3 times a year. Just a loving hello. I thought she probably saw the flower post and she was calling to be supportive. She indeed saw the post, but that was not the purpose of her call. She called to let me know she was taking her beloved 14 year old Giselle, a Dalmation/Pit mix, to the Rainbow Bridge. I love Jennine. I love the beautiful and sweet Giselle. And after a moment of strength and encouragement we hung up. And I posted this picture of her dog with mine… I mentioned Tank earlier. Well this was taken on my last visit to New Mexico… little Maggie watching Tank and Giselle wrestling. I did not know this would be my farewell.
And so it is with waves of grief… The special moments with something so visceral. I know a wrenching and retching of my body, my heart and mind. I know I am alive. And I stand, and I sit, and I rock, and I weep. I cry out to God. I look to the corners of my room to see if anyone has entered to put their hand on my shoulder, to touch the tears. And then it is over.
And I have a story to tell. And I write. It has been too long.
Did I mention girls in bikinis?