Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Message From the Veterinarian Hospital

I was feeling pretty good when I picked up my mail this morning.  Then I opened the envelope from the Vet hospital where I took Big Guy and inside was a sympathy card.  As soon as I saw the paw print on the front of the card, I lost it.  Then I opened the card and inside was the following...

The 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 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 and 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…

I had a smile on my face along with tears streaming down as I read it in the middle of a parking lot.  I didn't care if anybody saw me.  I also felt better because of the visual I got reading the poem.  I know I'm not the only one who has lost a loving pet, so this is for you, too.

Still hanging in there,


P.S.  Last post I said I was going to complain about MiFi today.  I think this is a lot better.  

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Tucson Weather is Awful...Should Have Stayed in Seattle

Thank you all for your words of encouragement for me re the loss of my dog.  I appreciate all the hugs sent and I feel so warmed by them.  Thank you.

I mentioned in my last post that I’d talk about weather in my next post and here it is.  I should have stayed in Seattle.  The weather in Tucson has been awful.  For example, rainfall so far this month in Seattle - .06, in Tucson – 1.86 (as of last Saturday).  As I recall, my reason for leaving Seattle was to get away from the rain.  This is a candle holder I have outside on my cement pad and it took two days to get this much rain… 

We got this much yesterday…

I guess I need to get a rain gauge. 

Prior to the rain we had two days of constant wind.  There’s a vent on the east side of my motorhome, the direction the wind was coming from, and it kept flapping…for two days!!!  The first night I finally had to unearth my earplugs so I could sleep because I couldn’t block out the flapping noise. 

Prior to the two days of the wind blowing it was terribly cold here.  I had to go buy a hat and warmer gloves to wear when I was taking my dog potty or for just going outside.  I even bought an oil heater, at the recommendation of the man who sold me my Alpha, and it helps.  Oh yeah, an electric blanket too.  I’m talking cold.  

Watching the news last night I saw that Tucson was 1° warmer than Seattle. 

I will admit that some days after the sun comes out I’m able to sit outside with a light jacket on.  Those days have been few and far between.

I’d be going nuts if I were still in Olivia, my Winnebago View, with the lack of space.  It helps to have the extra space that I now have in my Alpha, but I’m supposed to be outside, not locked inside because of the weather.  It gets dark so early and the nights seem to last forever.

Enough of the weather.  I’ve met some great people here in the pet section of the Voyager.  I’ve noticed that there seems to be more camaraderie in the pet section, probably because of all the dogs being walked. 

One of my neighbors from Alberta, Diane, wanted to take a class in glass fusion and talked me into going with her.  I went along reluctantly and ended up really liking it.  Here’s my first project…

Tomorrow I'm going to talk about MiFi...and how unhappy I am with it.

Hanging in There,


Monday, December 19, 2011

Mourning the Loss of My Dog


He came into my life about the time my son joined the Air Force and I became an empty nester.  We had an instant bond the first time we met and it only got stronger the 14+ years we were together.  I miss him terribly.

Three months shy of 15 years is how long he was around.  His fur went from black and brown to gray and white…kind of like me.  I guess we were definitely a match. 

I didn’t realize just how much I talked to him now that he isn’t around.  I’m still talking to him but in a different way.  Even in the larger motorhome he still managed to lie down right in my path so I was always stepping over him.  I wish I still had to do that. 

I didn’t realize just how much my life was centered around him, especially now that I’m an RVer.  I couldn’t just let him out the back door like I did when we were still in my house.  We were up at 6:30 in the morning for our first walk (AARGH) and the last one was around 8:30, with four or five walks in between those hours.  

I'm feeling directionless now.  Part of me wants to go right out and replace him but I'm not going to do that.  When he was still around I remember saying that after his passing I probably wouldn't get another dog.  What was I thinking?  Now that I'm alone I realize just how much he added to my life and another dog can do that, in time.  

He always got the ends of any banana that I ate.  He recognized the sound of me peeling a banana and waited patiently for his pieces. 

No offense to the small dog owners reading this post, but he was so regal when we walked past the small yappy dogs who were going ballistic as we walked by.  Being so dramatic seemed to be beneath him and he walked past them like they weren’t even there.  Yet he was friendly to all the dogs, especially the ones that were happy to see him.  Sort of sounds like a human trait.  

We spent more time together living in my motorhome.  When it was decent outside (that's the subject of my next he'd woof at the people walking by to let them know he was around and to say hi.  

I’ve given up on mascara for the time being because I never know when the tears are going to come.  At times the pain is almost unbearable and I wish it would go away.  I know it will with time.  But I loved him so much and I won’t take short cuts as I mourn his passing. 

Thanks, Big Guy, for all the wonderful times we had together.  I miss you so much.