It has been a while maybe too long since I wrote here regularly. For the last few years it has been one thing or another. A project for the museum, or a new display. During the pandemic I wrote daily and the time that followed I worked on compiling those daily posts into a book. That book I completed last night. The book itself has been done for a year. I have spent the last year battling formatting and trying to get it just the way I wanted it. Each time I thought I am going to just pay someone to do whatever it that needs to be done. I would hunker down and research the problem and I would figure out a way to do it myself. I can't say it will be perfection. I can only say it is truly a work of passion and resilience. This morning I ordered my proof paperback copy after working for a short time last night on finishing touches. Now I will move on to the next phase sharing that book with the rest of the world.
"New beginnings are usually scary" said Sandra Bullock in Hope Floats. "Endings are usually sad." "But it is the middle that is important." Well I guess I am at the new beginnings stage. I have been wallowing through endings are sad, and have been for months. It has just felt like an endless stream of sadness.
I don't' want to be sad but our pretty girl Princess passed away in May. My girl. She spoke to us in bow- wow-wow voice. She would look at me with her cloudy cataract ridden eyes but that isn't what I saw. I saw a young girl who fought like hell to not be left behind. When she found us at the SPCA they told us she has been returned 3 times. I almost felt like they were either trying to talk us out of her but at the same time they were like you can take her home today. We had a 17 year old cat at home and they said just don't write that down. We went into a small pen with her and Brian got down on the floor and she played with him licked his face and when she was done she came over and sat on top of my feet. My pretty girl had won my heart with one fell swoop.
She was 3 years old, 50 pound, black Shar pei mix, her little ears folded over on themselves and her tail curled up over her body and she wagged it when she was happy. That was all the time except when she was guarding me. We took her to obedience classes and we couldn't be at the same end of the room as the rest of the class. They called her reactive. We tried to do the exercise where we walk her on a leash between other dogs but that wasn't going to happen with out a lot of barking and pulling and scaring the daylights out of everyone in the room except for us. Years later we came across a lady that was a volunteer from that class at the park and she couldn't believe it was the same girl. She still pulled and barked but we learned how to distract her from whatever was too close and we moved on.
Now I am trying to do the same thing. Move on. Brian has been ready for another dog since the day she passed. But me I look at a dog or a picture of one and want to cry. The tears are hard to see through right now. I can make many similarities between Princess and Kody (our first dog). Medium size black dogs that wagged their tails. Each with their own issues. Kody had seizures his whole life. Princess had a reaction to the sun and heat. If she got too hot she would get welts all across her body and her face would swell up. She would truly look like a Shar pei then. Many trips to the emergency vet and a boat load of Benadryl. One day we figured out what was causing it and after that we could at least know what her exposure was and if a pill would do it or if we needed her to get a shot. She didn't fuss or cry she was a good girl as long as there was no other dogs in the vet. We would usually just ask to be put in a room so she didn't upset the others.
Since Princess had her reaction with the heat we would move her bed away from the fireplace in the winter so she wouldn't get too warm. One time Brian pulled her bed away and as he walks away she gets up and grabs the corner and pulls it back closer to the fireplace. The girl was no dummy. She knew just where she wanted to be.
Three days after Kody passed the day before my birthday in 2009 we made a trip to the emergency room for me. My first panic attack. I returned to the ER two more times in a week. After that I had to find a resolution to my panic. I met a beautiful soul of a counselor and after listening to me she gave me an assignment. Go home and write a letter to Kody and tell him everything you want to say. I sat down a few days later home alone and hand wrote 11 pages of memories and wishes and all that poured out of my soul for the Best Dog (what we called Kody). The first time I wanted to call Princess the Best Dog, I told her you are the best girl dog. I knew it would take a while before Kody would give up that name.
So as the time has passed since I last saw Princess pretty face. I have thought about that exercise of writing about what I missed but the feelings have been so raw I haven't been able to do that. As she was aging I was already mourning. I mourned what I had, what I was losing. We accommodated every need of hers as any good pet owner would. Couldn't jump on the bed cleared off the bench at the end of the bed for her to use as a step up. Couldn't make that jump we called it spotting her. We would spot her to make sure she got all the way up on the bed. Never would I have let her believe she wasn't the strongest dog in the world. Thinking about her jumping up, her favorite place to watch the world go by was the wooden trunk under our front window. She would jump up there and watch people, dogs & cats even the bunny rabbits in the front yard. She barked to let us know what was there. We would commend her on her watchful eye and tell her thank you pretty girl for letting us know. This was another thing that slowly slipped away. she stopped jumping up and she would bark from the ground, just knowing something was out there. It would make me sad. Knowing she couldn't do her thing. Towards the end she would be laying on the floor or the couch and barely lift her head and let out a single bark and put her head back down. But we knew what she was saying.
The best Princess story at the front window was when she was young we would have K-9 police officers bring their dogs to our street. They would hide something and have the dogs look for it. One afternoon they were running the dog down the street and the German Sheppard stopped in front of our house made his way around our front yard the whole time Princess is warning him not to come a step closer to her house. He actually stopped and looked up at her then continued until he found the contraband. After that the police officer without his dog came up to our door and knocked. As he stood at the bottom of the step he realized he was looking in the eyes of the dog that was doing all the barking. When we opened the door he was surprised to find our pretty girl standing on top of the trunk barking in his face now that the door was open. He said I just wanted to meet the dog that made my dog stop working. LOL. I don't think they did that in front our house anymore.
As Princess was getting older she didn't want to eat dry food so I cooked chicken and rice for her just like I had Kody. One thing about dogs with seizures the medicine kills their liver. But we were able to help by feeding fresh food. Princess she loved scrambled eggs or anything on my plate. Just like with Kody I knew one day I would cry that I got the last bite of my own food. But my pretty girl would gobble up what ever I had made so fast I would say she couldn't even taste it.



So many memories flood my brain. The time after Hurricane Irma we had no power after 5 days my first day off. I took her to Chick fil-a and drove through got me a sandwich and her some nuggets. We sat in the car at a park with the air running in the shade to cool off and eat our food. When we got home I was going to hose her down and when I went in the house to get on a bathing suit the power came on. Thank God. Not soon after that our fence was still down after the storm and she got stuck on her side with a board and had to have staples in her side. She didn't cry or whimper we didn't even know she was hurt until Brian went to pet her and he stuck his finger in the hole. No cone for the pretty girl though the vet tech suggested since it was going to be weeks with the staples to get her a t-shirt and tie a knot in the back to cover her side. She never messed with it at all.
Speaking of Princess getting hurt about 3 weeks after those staples came out our girl was chasing a cat through the back yard, not our cat. Just one passing through the wrong yard. The cat went over the picnic table we had and Princess tried to go under. She ended up cutting a V shaped section out of her scalp. Don't know if they counted how many stiches that took but our regular vet was like you are going to have to take her somewhere else. The poor girl with her head split open and they couldn't stich her. Emergency vet here we come again. We were like really we just got done paying for the last emergency vet trip. And one more. Another time she got into a scuffle with a opossum. The opossum scratched her eye lid she had to have 15 stiches. Who would know we live just a block from the busiest street in our area.
My pretty girl we could go on and on with memories and funny stories of things that you did. When you were a bad girl and when you were the best girl. When you were my pretty princess. I miss you everyday.
Excerpt from a poem She is Gone by David Harkins
You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she has lived
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared
You can remember her and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on
Thank you for the years of good times and good memories. The memories will live on as long as I do.
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