A Magical Day

Monday dawned with gray skies and drizzle. Another dreary day... with no indication of what was in store for us.

My husband left at 8:00 to take a bike ride to the State Park just a ways down the road, and I had my coffee and posted on the blog about the past week and listed a few new things in the Etsy shop. Around 10:00, Abby and Empi started barking and rushed to the front sliding doors, a signal that John was coming up the driveway. But when I looked out the window, he was coming from the woods and through the yard... very strange. Then the dogs took off up the stairs to the window which overlooks the back side of our property, and they were squealing with alarm and concern. I took a look, and there in the back yard was a black dog.

We all rushed back down the stairs just as John was poking his head in the door and calling for Abby. I went out with her and John led her to the back yard to meet the stranger who was in the fence there. As they sniffed and circled and met each other, John told me the story. He'd seen this dog a few times over the weekend, thinking at one point that she was dead because she'd lain in the same spot for hours on end without moving. But today she was hanging around some construction guys who are working on a new building between our road and the park. He wheeled up on his bike and asked what they knew about her; not much, they said. He looked her over, petted her, and immediately, there was a bond because as he rode off, she followed him home, no short distance.

She seemed just a wee bit thin, and we gave her some food on the porch and talked about what to do. We decided to take some Found Dog flyers down to the houses close to the park to see if anyone would claim her. But first, we introduced her to Empi, who normally is fairly territorial (though this is only her home away from home), but there were no problems at all. Seems that Empi and Abby would both accept her without any trouble, and she was very accepting of them too. She even does quite well with our cat, Scout, who has rubbed up against her and gotten a kiss. Next we gave her a bath, cleaned off all the mud and dirt, and inspected the scars in many locations on her body. She's got a bad limp and it appears that her right shoulder may have been broken somehow and healed without surgery.

A few hours later, after a nap and lunch, John headed down the road with the flyers, and he found the owner at the house where he'd first seen the dog over the weekend. The man said that he'd planned to move into town soon and didn't want to take "Ladybird" with him. He said she's about 8 months old, has never had shots or been to the vet, so of course she also hasn't been spayed. He said she is part Pit Bull, part Boxer, and part Lab. She'd had a brother who was larger than she, but he'd been hit and killed by a car. When John asked about her injuries, the guy said he didn't know anything about them. He was more than happy to leave her in our care.

She is definitely not a dog we would have picked out at the shelter, not a breed or mix we'd be inclined to search out, but it seems clear to me that "Ladybird" picked us out, that she found us. I believe she knew where she wasn't wanted and knew where she would be loved and cared for.

Last winter, when Bruschi died and I'd posted about the sadness and grief of that experience, one of my followers wrote this: "Our kindred spirits never go far from us in this universe, Bruschi will be watching over you and when his spirit is ready he will be at your side again in fur form." I could not help but think of this as, on Monday afternoon in the drizzle, I went out to pick blueberries, and our new dog came out to the bushes and sniffed around, happily eating the berries I offered her, wiggling her whole body with delight. Then she laid down and patiently waited for me to finish. That evening, when I was cooking dinner, I looked up the stairs and found her laying at the very top, with her paws draped over the edge, surveying the goings-on in the kitchen. Let me tell you, I got a bit teary-eyed because that is just what Bruschi used to do.

Tuesday morning, we finally reached a consensus on her new name. I simply could not live with "Ladybird", so we chose Cooper, and it seems to suit her. She has easily made her way into her new home. She likes to go up the hill with John to the shop, and she lays there, quite content just to be near him, while he works; occasionally she'll wander back down to the house alone and ask to come in. She has no inclination to leave, and it's a marvel at how well suited she is for us and we are for her. At bedtime, she has her own bed upstairs with us and Abby and Empi, and all three dogs sleep peacefully through the night. Yesterday I bought her a collar and leash, as well as her own puppy food (Blue Buffalo... natural and holistic without all the crap and fillers that most commercial dog foods have; it's what we finally started buying for the adults dogs when Bruschi was sick and needed less protein and better food), and tomorrow she'll take her first car ride to the vet where she'll get her shots and an appointment for spaying.

Last week was a hard week... full of fear, pain, emotional issues. So I'm very thankful and feel quite blessed that this week is balancing out with light, life, and love. Amen and amen.

Music for a Cause

Tomorrow is a big night... something I've been planning for a couple months now. I will be doing a music gig, Music for the Community #4, as a fundraiser to benefit the residents at the local nursing home where I sing a couple times a month and to benefit a local animal rescue organization run solely by volunteers. These are two areas that touch my heart deeply, and I wanted to do something special for them, to help make their lives a little better, their work a little easier.

I'll do a solo set covering some songs by my favorite songwriters as well as some originals. The second set will be with the band, The Ramshackles, and we'll do more originals and more favorite songs. Which songwriters, you might ask? Tom Waits, Bruce Springsteen, Townes Van Zandt, Kris Kristofferson, Emmylou, Lucinda Williams, Steve Goodman... and more, including a song by my brother who is a pretty good songwriter himself!

For over two weeks, I've struggled with some mysterious and weird physical issues, as many of you know, and I truly think I've willed myself to get better enough to do the show, because, as the saying goes, "the show must go on!" I did not want to cancel or reschedule; I simply wanted to follow through with my plans and to get some money in the hands of these two groups so that they can use it to continue to do the oh-so-important work that they do in easing the lives of and tending to the needs of those dear old folks and in rescuing, caring for, and treating, and finding homes for neglected and stray animals. So this afternoon will be a long practice with the band since those have been rare of late. I'm feeling pretty good right now and hopefully my energy level will stay up because the motivation is truly there! Wish us luck, a good crowd, and a full donation basket!

Scout in the Garden

It seems to be a cat week for me. I finally had the energy and motivation to finish my cat sculpture for the Forsyth County Humane Society's Art Unleashed Fundraiser. She's been sitting on my table for several weeks, untouched from a few earlier painting sessions, while I dealt with more pressing matters. But today, I decided I'd work on her as the breeze (and pollen) blew through the open windows and doors. And work on her I did... until I was satisfied that she was done. All that is left to do is the base on which she'll stand, and that means primer and enamel paints. But first, I have to decide what to put on the base... I'm leaning towards a big bumblebee and some flowers... but I'll give it some more thought before I begin.

Letting Go

In the quiet of the house, I hear the clock ticking away the minutes, see the dust and dog hair settled on the floor in the sunlight sneaking through the windows wintered with fine dirt. I know I should sweep, do some spring cleaning, but somehow, right now I can't. I hear the strong March winds, come a day or two too soon, and the chimes out in the trees, clanging and singing, a sound so familiar yet so far away. It's a reminder, a knowledge that the world is there. But it is not the same. I want to set things aright, there's a need and a desire both, but somehow I am frozen here at this table, a cup of coffee growing cold in my hand.

Life isn't fair, and death often cheats. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. This time we lost. Up on the hill beneath the grass that will one day be green again lies Bruschi, at 5 1/2, so young but oh so old after 18 months of seizures and medications took their toll on his beautiful body. He is not far from Amos, from BeeBee, from Gesso. They each have a flowering tree, but Bruschi will have blueberry bushes. When we used to walk through the yard, or when I went out in July to pick the berries, he loved to join me, and he ate his share off the branches, using that wonderful hound nose of his to seek out the ripest. I know that come harvest time, five months from now, I will still cry.

John dealt with his grief with a shovel in his hand, muscles straining to remove heavy loads of dirt enough to open a hole in the earth that would envelop our 95 pound baby. It took him several hours, a lot of water, and a shooter of whiskey to get through.

I simply could not participate in that. I had held Bruschi's head in my arms while he died, and I could not look at him again, motionless and still, on the cold February ground. So for once in my life, I was thankful for a dirty house and during those digging hours, I vacuumed, scrubbed the smell of seizures off the floors, washed dog bedding, rearranged furniture, some of which had been moved over the past months in light of Bruschi's condition, cleaned bathrooms and the kitchen, cleaned the winter off the windows.

And now, the house seems so quiet. Our morning routine has changed. So much focus and energy had been spent on Bruschi, and while there is a sense of relief, there is so much strangeness and lonesomeness about the house. It seems so empty. As John says, Bruschi was such a big presence and he could not be ignored. He is missed in so many ways.

Our Abby knows the emptiness of this one-dog house, and even on this sunny Sunday, she has chosen to stay in bed, sleeping the morning light away.

Love and Commitment

For several days now my husband and I have been consumed with the health issues of our 5 1/2 year old dog, Bruschi. We haven't had much sleep and have been at wit's end with strange behaviors, constant pacing, and other such things. Bruschi's been having seizures since October of 2008, and last August he had his first cluster seizure... meaning more than one in a short period of time. He's had a few of those since then, and he can't seem to go more than three weeks without having at least one seizure. The meds he's been on have been very, very hard on him. He stays fairly stoned, which is something I was strongly opposed to last August when we had such a very long and stress-filled day with those 6 seizures in several hours. We do not like seeing our wonderful dog in such a state, unable to get up without flailing and struggling or without help, walking into things, falling down. Which is worse... that type of condition or the seizures? In my mind one is as bad as the other.

We have ordered online a new medicine recommended by our vet, but it seems to be taking forever to get here. So today we will pick a local ten-day supply, at a much much higher cost, in hopes that this medicine will help control the seizures without the other side effects. Research shows that it has a 70% success rate, but each dog is different, so we can only keep our fingers crossed and send up prayers that this will work for our dog. We know that something has to give. We do not believe that Bruschi is living a happy dog life right now and interaction with him is not the same as it used to be. He looks frustrated and confused, and can you blame him? He must somehow understand that he is not the dog he used to be. I have always said that I will not live my life on medicines that keep me from functioning and being who I am, and I surely don't want my dog living that way.

So we will try this new drug for a couple weeks, watching closely for improvements and hoping for the best. If you don't see me online much during that time, you will know why, so please keep us in your thoughts and prayers.