Spudly was dignified till the end.... shook his head and insisted on standing even after the vet administered the shot which should have taken him down.
I was impressed.

My friend Anne passed this to me to read to the boys while we buried him.
Old dogs have stood the test of time and event and circumstance. They come now slowly, and lay at the foot or close to side, jowls flat, eyes faded with fog of cataract, their muzzles and paws white or speckled salt and pepper. But they come. They want to be close. They are great treasures, these old dogs. For they are more than themselves lying there. They are us.

Christmas was wonderful in spite of our loss...we decided it that way..we chose it...to laugh, to smile at each other,to hold dearly and tightly that which has come to mean the most...just us being together.
Caleb continues to impress; just like his old dog. He fights each day to re-gain some sort of understanding. He remembers more. He laughs louder and more often.
He too is a fighter.
I will remember how he beat the odds when I am low, how he smiled when he was tethered to his bed, and I will shake my head and insist on standing when I feel I can't do this anymore. These are the lessons I walk away with,.................... and I walk, and I walk, and I walk.


Blessings to all of you in the year to come.

Max and I were sitting outside on the back stoop looking out over the property...he was seven. A friend of mine drove up, parked in the side yard and walked toward us with 7 puppies gathered at his ankles, running around his legs yapping away. I remember leering at him..knowing that he knew... and I knew that we would end up with a puppy that day.
Max was thrilled when I told him he could choose one. We carefully studied each of them. I had my hopes set on a blonde.. but one dark little guy had the smarts enough to crawl up behind Max and take a bite. Max decided that the puppy chose him...and there was Spud...named by a friend who thought he looked like a fat little potato.

Tomorrow we put him down. The decision had to be made.
Like an old friend..Spud and I have traveled far and wide together. We have walked most of Wellfleet; crazy long walks especially after my separation, Jan's death, Caleb's accident. He helps me to think clearly; to calm myself by just following his footsteps as he bravely trudges forward with no judgments or opinion. He has been my friend.
My sons love him dearly and rub his head while silently whispering their individual love song to him, all the while knowing that tomorrow they will dig the hole he will be placed in.

And like an old friend..I have been annoyed at him at times, have scolded him, have been bothered by him and have ignored him too....but when the time comes when you know you will never be in the presence of that being again...your heart breaks with the thoughts of all that you should have said, could have said, or could have done.

Now the interesting part to me is that I am a trained farm girl..we don't get attached to animals..they only serve a purpose on the farm...but I can't seem to stop crying. Perhaps it is finally the flood that had to be held back with Caleb, the tangled deluge that was not allowed with Jan.

Spud..Thank you for allowing me to let go of all the things I have held so tightly in... as always, you are my ally. Sleep in Heavenly Peace.

Christmas

I love Christmas. I love the smell, the feel, the doing,the action verb of Christmas. I like the decorating; to please the eye, the wrapping; to please the mind, the music; to soothe the soul. Perhaps if we were all this busy being kind and thinking about ways we could make a difference to someone else all year round, the world would change.
On that note, I have collected 600.00 for my young friend and have been able to send a thank you to all but two- Lou Roy who is a stellar woman...and a truly anonymous donor who tucked money into my mailbox without a note. Thank you. all you lovely ones who sent your hearts desires. I know for fact that money is not the end all when you are under intense duration...but sometimes it really just does help...if for no other reason than to allow yourself to know that someone out there is aware of you, and cares!
I spend my days listening to the coming and goings of major trucks now on my silent little road. The new owners?... People with big money who research properties to find loopholes in titles and then win big in court. They rape the land that was so tender and dear...so fragile and clear in it's intention to be simple and country. This has brought me around to contemplating the spirit of life and it's meaning to me. Now, if I could take back time I would only ask for the simple things in life..not the fancy cars, not the properties in tandem...but for the God intentioned things which we expect to be the norm. Life...and a smile, and simplicity. Sons and daughters who like to be together because their parents have nurtured this in them...family, family this is it!
If I sat in Santas' lap today I would beg, with teary, big blue eyes ...for a brain that returns, for an ex- husband to be here on Christmas day, no matter what our differences....I would ask for a smile that is genuine because I now know how life can turn on a dime and be different and trying each and every day...Know what you have, count on your fingers the moments in a day that you have joy, and if you don't have it; find pieces of it in your discontent..it is always there behind a shadow of doubt.