Red Head
Wordless Wednesday: Laughing Lucy
Petal Pusher
Morning Rounds
A Tale of Faith and Hope
Once upon a time, there were two tiny sister puppies born with faulty eating instruments. The odds were stacked against them, but a fairy godmother intervened and said: “we can help.” They were named Faith and Hope.
Hand fed and held upright, they put the naysayers to shame and thrived. Sisters bonded through adversity, they developed a deep love.
In a little blind puppy, they found a kindred spirit and formed the three pupsketeers.
They were inseparable – and inexhaustible.
As their little bodies grew, so did their mighty play, draining the life out of their fairy godmother. When offers of adoption came first for one –
and then the other,
they were gladly accepted.
Leaving only one.
Little green-eyed Faith came back to stay with a foster godmother (me) until her adoptive family could be found.
We thought we had it, but then we didn’t. It was something about the right dog at the wrong time.
So said her foster godmother, as well. Although she loved the little girl very much, she had made an important promise to her big dog who had even bigger needs at the time.
So little Faith went to stay with her sister – now named Sophie, and her sister’s handsome (but puppy-annoyed) big brother, Jasper, loved by yet another foster godmother, Cassandra.
Only Cassandra was not so much “foster” as she was “mother.” You see, Cassandra was a “foster failure”; not just once – but twice – having fostered, and then adopted, both Sophie and Jasper. She pleaded: “I can help; let me help.”
The bonds of siblings of eight or nine weeks are one thing; but three, four, five and nearly six months of age? Well, that’s something else.
Each time the girls were reunited, their best happiness was evident to all who looked closely.
And now it is official. A match set.
And Cassandra’s foster failure record is thrice, as it was always meant to be.
Faith and her sister Sophie will live happily-ever-after together – and a grateful Jasper will get some much deserved puppy-free time!
And that is the story of two little sisters whose fate might have been otherwise except for two powerful words: faith and hope.
The end. And the beginning.
Dragonfly: Suit of Armor
Amaranthus: Prince’s Feather
Beauty Among the Beasts
Wordless Wednesday: Hello
Learning How to Surf
“Even if happiness forgets you a little bit, never completely forget about it.” ~ Jacques Prévert
Happiness forgot us for a bit. With the loss of Bella, the house feels quiet and empty to us, and to Bella’s “brother” Jackson. From the moment they met, they had been best playmates and friends.
Only a year separated them – and we hoped nothing else ever would. But sometimes, the universe has other plans.
You can’t will grief away; it takes its own time. But wallowing in it never banished it faster. So, while we mourn our loss, we have to put Jackson’s needs first. And today, he needed some happiness.
We took him on one of his favorite adventures – an early morning hike and swim in the river.
And along the way, we met and made a new friend; her name is Riba.
A few years younger than Jackson –
a powerful ocean-trained swimmer,
and a mighty shaker,
she could probably show him up if she wanted, but they were well matched in personality and play.
When the heart is heavy, create good times and new memories, and eventually, happiness will find you again.
“You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn how to surf.” ~ Jon Kabat-Zinn
My Summer With Bella
I read, with sadness and empathy, the stories of the people or their companions that I have befriended here as they journey through terminal illness. I am privileged to share in their passage, however painful, and to support them as best I can. Yet, I have not been able to write about my own journey with my beloved Bella.
Maybe it is because I am a private person. Or perhaps it is because I’m told that my happiest stories help to lift others’ spirits. God knows that we could all use a little of that. More likely, it is because – by writing about it – it would become all too real.
My Bella had cancer. Inoperable, and, despite all efforts, incurable.
My only requirement through treatments: that she be happy, no matter how unhappy I was for her.
And when she stopped being happy – of just being Bella – then it was time.
Today, it was time. After a long and difficult night, she looked at me and said “no more drugs, no more doctors, no more.” And my heart is breaking – for her, and her “brother” Jackson who will be lost without her.
Nine is too young. She got robbed. But still, nine was rich, and full, and wonderful.
My first rescue dog from Homeward Bound Golden Retriever Rescue – a Golden puppy. A rarity in rescue.
And while an adult dog comes with so many blessings, there is nothing like the bond created through potty training, sleepless nights, and half eaten walls – something she never quite grew out of.
Always in trouble from the start, she was smart and willful.
She did everything with complete abandon,
whether it was catching a ball or guarding the backyard from marauding squirrels. So it should be no surprise that her tumor would first appear as a Grade 3.
As a puppy, she was always busy. She could never settle at night. So I would curl up with her on the dog bed and whisper quietly to her while gently stroking her leg and paw until she fell asleep; a ritual that still works – even today.
I left my job a month after her diagnosis. Not because of it, but maybe because I was meant to have this time with her. Without it, her day would have come much sooner. So many appointments and medications and special instructions. I could never have managed it with work. It bought us some time to prepare, accept, and appreciate all the more.
My summer with sweet Bella was a precious gift of time and love. And today – of departure.
Fly free sweet girl. And say hello to Pookie, Bear, Tribble and Valentino.
You are so loved.
Gardens For Goldens 