new dog .....???

So ........ we might have a new dog.

To be honest, I am not ready for another dog.  I still have sad days, and I think of Fritz every single day.  I still miss HIM, and I want HIM back.  ...not another dog.

But Georgia O'Keeffe seems lonely without her playmate.  Oh, she and Dolce keep one another company, but it's not the same.  Dolce can't go over into the big pasture with Georgia O'Keeffe.  (Too many places where a small dog can sneak out.)  Dolce can't run the way Georgia O'Keeffe does.  (Legs too small. ha!)  Dolce is OK, but not ideal.

Some friends of ours knew all about both Fritz and Georgia O'Keeffe.  They knew the situation.  They found a dog that was about to be put to sleep in a local shelter, and they rescued her.  They knew they could not keep the dog, but they also knew they could not let her be put down.  So, not knowing what they were going to do, they rescued her from the shelter, and then they thought of us.

They brought Daisy by last night.  Daisy looks to be a pitt bull mix.  Whatever she is, she is beautiful.

And she had apparently been treated not too nicely.  She cowers when meeting new people, new dogs, new situations.  Her little tail was firmly tucked in between her two back legs.  It stayed that way for quite a while while she was meeting all of us.  She met Mark first.  Then I went out and let her sniff me.  After a bit, we brought out Georgia O'Keeffe.  The two dogs sniffed and sniffed.  And sniffed.  Little by little Daisy's tail came out from between her legs and began to wag.

After the two dogs sniffed each other and seemed to be getting along, we took the leashes off both dogs.  They rolled around together, sniffed each other some more, and then Daisy took off running.  She ran circles around the yard at full speed.  Georgia O'Keeffe chased her.  Then Georgia O'Keeffe took off running with Daisy chasing her.  They seemed to get along great.  GO'K seemed happy to have a running buddy, and Daisy seemed happy just to be able to run.

She's got a few tummy problems we noticed right away, so she did have to sleep outside last night.  We put her in the dog run, and we left Georgia O'Keeffe out with her just so she would not be completely confused and lonely.  This morning, I went out and fed them, and then I let them out of the dog run.  Daisy took off like ninety to nothing and ran circles around the pasture.  Georgia O'Keeffe watched a little and then joined in........

I am attempting to not get attached yet.  We're still not sure that we will be keeping her.  I'll call in the morning to get her an appointment with the vet.  We need to make sure that she is healthy and has no big problems or issues.  Also need to see if she is 'fixed'.  We need to see if she will stay in our yard.  We do not have a high fence around our yard and pasture.  It's 5' in most places, but there are a few spots it's shorter, because the ground is not always level.  If she is a jumper, she could easily get out, and we can't be having that.  If she is a digger, she could easily get out, and we can't be having that. Our dogs are in and out dogs, so they do come in for bad weather, HOT weather and in the evenings and night time.  But, we do let them outside during the day to run and play and get rid of some energy, and we can't be having a dog who gets out each time she's left outside.

So .... we'll see how this goes.


(oh, and she may not be staying 'Daisy', but again, still trying not to get attached just yet.)

Getting better .... slowly

I think about Fritz every single day.
But I don't cry.  At least most of the time I don't cry.
Sunday, July 7th, was the first time I talked about Fritz without crying, and I had two thoughts.  One, I felt guilty for NOT crying.  Two, I felt I was moving along.
But since then, I've cried twice while talking about him, so I've had to rethink things.
I now think that on that particular Sunday I didn't cry, because I wasn't at home where it is so obvious that he is missing.  The two times I have tried to talk about Fritz when I did cry, were both at home.
A couple of the neighbors have noticed the dogs missing from the pasture, and when I try to explain .... well, I have a hard time.
Each morning we used to put Georgia O'Keeffe and Fritz out in the pasture.  Let them run off some energy after being in the house all night.
Now .... no dogs.
And people have noticed.  They said how friendly the dogs were and how the dogs would run along the fence as they passed by.
A few times when Mark has been out working in the yard, he'll put GO'K out in the pasture to let her run and to keep him company.  But I cannot stand the thought of her out there alone.  So .... she stays with Dolce.  Either in the house (it's been so blasted hot, so the timing of this is not a bad thing) or in our backyard ... just not out in the pasture.  alone.
I don't cry anymore when I feed the dogs.  I've gotten used to filling only two bowls at meal times, but I still miss Fritz.  And I'm still reminded that he's no longer here.

His empty bowl remains on top of his empty kennel which houses a few of his abandoned balls.  The only thing we ever used the kennels for were meal times.  Someone once asked me if we did this, because the dogs would fight over food.  NO.  Our dogs were the sweetest of friends.  We did this because Fritz was quite allergic to many things and had his own special food.  Fritz also ate slowly and at his own pace.  Kenneling the dogs during meal times was a way to ensure each dog ate his or her own food.  period.  So twice a day, when I feed Georgia O'Keeffe and Dolce, I look over at Fritz' kennel, and I think of him.  And I get sad.  And I miss him.
but I usually don't cry.  usually.

I had a bad day, and it turned into a bad week....

(My title is from something said to me recently .... it somewhat cracked me up, and it was somewhat true.)

I have been doing better.  I have been able to not cry every day.  I have been able to not cry at meal times.  I have been able to not cry when I arrive home.  I have been able to not cry at bedtime.  I have been able to think and talk about Fritz with a smile on my face.  I have been able to look at pictures of Fritz and smile.

and then........

I remember it's Friday.  And I remember what last Friday brought.
It was one week ago that I called the vet and in my best blubbering voice said, "My dog hasn't been eating, and now he won't even drink water."
It was a week ago that the vet told me to bring him in.
It was a week ago that I thought that bringing Fritz in to the vet's office was a good idea, because they would make him strong.  They would make him well.
It was a week ago that I was excited when I heard the vet was putting Fritz in the hospital.  Doggies get better in the hospital, right?

It was a week ago, that Fritz didn't come home.

And when I remember that, a deep sadness, once again, consumes my being.

I saw something today I felt was appropriate:

"Beginnings are usually scary and endings are usually sad, but it's everything in between that makes it all worth living."

The beginning with Fritz was not 'scary'.  A better word might be 'unknown', and the ending was sad.  But oh the middle was absolutely worth living.  A few days ago Marshall said, "I always knew he wouldn't be a dog that lived a very long life, but I'm really glad I had him for the little time I did."

Mark is leaving me today.  He and Jacob are going to visit family.  And they need to.  It's important for Jacob to see as much of his family as possible while he's here.  It's always good for Mark to spend time with his family too.  Mark is always so relaxed when he is with his family.  And he laughs.  Not that he never laughs at other times.  He does.  But, somehow, it's different when he's with family.  The familiarity.  The love.  So I am happy the two of them are going.
 But I know after they leave I will be swept over with another wave of sadness.  Maybe it's good to be alone when sad.  Alone with my other animals.  Alone with my thoughts.  Alone with God.  I did inform Mark that my other animals (well, not the chickens, but the others) will be sleeping with me.  That will help.

Jenni....!!

I'm a day late, but what else is new?

Yesterday was July 2nd.  A special day.  A wonderful day.  What makes July 2nd so wonderful and special is the fact that on this day in 1986, Jennifer Leigh Marek entered the world.  (It is also the very middle day of the year in non-leap years.  A fact my father pointed out to me back in 1986.)

I know not everyone gets to plan out their family.  I know not everyone gets what they want.  But I did.  I wanted two kids.  I wanted them back to back.  I wanted a boy and a girl. ...but I wanted my girl first. Most people want the boy first.  The older brother.  The protector.  Not me.  I wanted my girl.

Jenni was such an easy pregnancy, that I never even had an ultrasound.  The doctor kept telling me (while listening to the baby's heart), "sounds like a boy."  I kept wanting my girl.  Unlike births these days, up until the moment Jenni made her appearance, we had no idea whether we were getting a boy or a girl, but Jenni came and announced herself,  and when they told me I had a girl, I was over the moon.

Unlike births these days, Jenni did not stay in my room.  They kept her down in the nursery.  One time I heard a baby cooing in the hallway, and I told James, "They're bringing me my baby."  James informed me I could not possibly know whose baby I was hearing.  I told him,  I did know, and that the baby I was hearing was my baby.  Just then the door opened, and the nurse walked in with my baby.  A mother knows.

Jenni has been such a blessing.  And I loved each and every step along the way.  I loved each and every stage she grow into and then grew out of.  Jenni was not a good sleeper then, Jenni is not a good sleeper now.  Jenni did not like crowds then, Jenni does not like crowds now.  Jenni was quite independent then, Jenni is quite independent now. Jenni was a voracious reader then, Jenni is a voracious reader now. Her personality, while it has grown and matured, it has remained the same throughout her life.

My little girl is now learning with her little girl, how bittersweet it is to watch your child grow.  You hate to watch a stage end, but you are so excited about the new stage she enters.  So often I hear that grandchildren are the best part of being a grandparent, but for me, the best part of being a grandparent is watching my little girl with her little girl.  Watching the love between the two of them.

I often tell people that my daughter is "too good to be true", and they look at me as if this is something that all parents say about all children, so they don't believe me.  But she is.  Jenni has one of the best hearts of anyone on this earth.  Especially when it comes to animals.  When Jenni was little, if we passed a dog who had been run over lying on the side of the road, Jenni would cry. She did not have to know the dog.  All she had to know was that a dog had died.  That was enough.  When Jenni was in high school, I forbid her to watch the news.  Jenni couldn't handle the news.  She would watch the news and cry.  Murders, destruction, mayhem, abuse .... Jenni's heart couldn't handle it.  Dustin caught her one time researching abortions on her computer.  She was frozen.  Staring at her computer screen with tears streaming down her face.  Dustin had to shut the computer and walk Jenni away.  Jenni also will not let us kill bugs or mice or other pests.  We must trap them humanely and move them, but not kill them.  The only exception is tarantulas.  Jenni detests tarantuals.

I still remember taking Jenni to kindergarten, and how I had to walk her to Miss Barlow's room, because the door was too heavy for her to open by herself.  I hate to say, but I did NOT always want to walk Jenni in.  Some mornings I looked more like a Walmartian than a soccer mom, and I was not ready for the world to see me.  I also had Marshall in his car seat, so this meant parking and taking him out just to walk her in.  But she would look at me and tell me she couldn't do it, and I couldn't resist.  So .... I walked her in, and I opened that heavy door for her.  Somewhere along the way, Jenni learned how to open her own doors.

I remember her complaining about the 'big' kids on the playground.  You know.  Those first graders.  They were so intimidating to her.

I remember her first year of tee-ball.  They didn't play in the baseball pants back then.  They were given the shirt and hat, but they played in their own pants.  Jenni played in white jean shorts  ....with lace.  Jenni was always a mix between pampered girl and tough kid.

I remember the last day I drove her to West End. I remember how she was scared to death she was going to be the smallest kid in Junior High and how happy she was when she found someone smaller.

I remember volleyball games and track meets and gymnastic meets.

I remember her learning to drive and her telling me to just shut up and let her dad handle it, because he was so much better than I was.  He didn't freak out.

I remember her going away to college.  I remember walking away from that dorm and crying as I left my baby behind.

I remember her telling me she loved Dustin.  And then they got engaged.  And we planned a wedding.  Oh the first time I saw her in a wedding dress.  Oh how my heart melted.  And then they got married.  And when the two of them drove away, I lost it.  I cried and cried.

I remember her graduation, and how proud she was of herself.  And how proud we were of her.

And then one day she told me she was pregnant.  And we were all so thrilled.  And it was not an easy pregnancy.  And we were all so worried.  And we prayed.  And we prayed.  And Eden entered the world.  And my little girl became a mother.

I could not imagine my world without my little girl.  At times she has been my little girl.  At times she has been my confidant.  At times she has been my best friend.  At times she has been my mentor.  At times she has had to set me straight.  These 27 years have been fun.  I have absolutely enjoyed each and every minute of being this little girl's momma.  She has been a blessing in so so many ways.

I'm OK .... really I am. I am. OK, I'll work on it.

Maybe not an exact quote, but another "Friends" reference for my title.

Each day does get better.  Oh, I'm still sad, and I still WANT MY FRITZ BACK, but each day does get better.  Each day does get easier.

I think what really hurt was the feeling that I failed him.  When a dog grows old, and we watch him labor, and we watch him age, and we know he had so many good years, while death is still painful, we reconcile ourselves to it.  We ready ourselves.

Fritz did not get the opportunity to age and grow old.  He had good years.  Marshall was so good to Fritz.  I have pictures of them swimming together, pictures of them playing together.  Heck, Fritz, as big as he was, slept in Marshall's bed.  Yes, Fritz was loved and cared for.  When he came to live with us, he continued in his good life.  He no longer got to sleep in our bed, but he had a good bed, and cool tiles and padded rugs, and hey, I even caught him on the couch.  He had room to run and roam and play.  He had, in Georgia, a companion.  And he was fiercely protective of her.  And she mothered him.  On second thought, he didn't have good years, he had GREAT years.  But he was still in the prime of his life, when that life was cut short.  That makes it so much harder.  Such a sweet dog should have the opportunity to grow old.  (There I go second guessing God again.  grrr)

But I did feel, the first few days, that I failed him.  I wanted so badly to get him well.  I promised him I would get him well.  I promised him we would make it better.  I made a promise I was in no position to keep.

The last day or two, I have had a new outlook on this though.  Ultimately, as dog owners, our responsibility is to take care of our dogs.  To make sure they have food. Shelter.  Shade. Water. Vaccines.  Love.  Care.  Toys.  Companionship.  And that they are taken care of.  To make sure they do not suffer.  That they are not in pain. Or sick. Or hurting.  And, in that regard, I did not fail Fritz.  In his last days, I comforted him.  I pet him and talked to him.  And I had patience with him.  (not always one of my strong points) I sat down next to him to hand feed him just hoping he'd eat even just a little.  Fritz was loved, and Fritz was taken care of .... even to the end.  In that, Marshall nor I ever let him down.

On Monday, I went to pick up the prints of Fritz' paw.  I knew that would be hard.  What I was not prepared for, was that I was also given Fritz' ashes.  I honestly thought it would take longer.  I walked in and told them I had come for his paw prints.  The girl said, "You had him cremated?"  I answered that I had, and she handed me a purple bag.  Purple, the color of royalty.  How appropriate for such a regal dog.  In it, was a beautiful sealed box.  "It's heavy." she informed me.  I couldn't answer.  All I could do was cry.  I tried saying "Thank you."

According to the paperwork, Fritz was cremated at 8:00pm the same day he died.

I have such mixed emotions about death.  Anyone who knows me well, knows I am in complete denial when it comes to death.  Oh, I believe in God and I believe in Jesus and I believe in Heaven.  I'm not scared of death in any way.  I'm just in denial about it when it concerns those I love.  When my dad was dying, everyone else knew he was dying.  I was waiting for the cure.  Same with Fritz.  I knew his heart was weakened.  I was thinking the doctors could give him glucose or a feeding tube or something to strengthen his body until we got his heart figured out.  Denial.

My mixed emotions stem from the fact that I think there should be more fanfare when someone dies.  It seems so sad that one moment someone is here, and *poof* in a heartbeat, in the blink of an eye,  they aren't.  but ummmm, doesn't the Bible tell me such things?  That that is exactly how it will happen?  Perhaps the fanfare comes on the other side.  The entrance, not the exit.  OK.  I like that.

Ivy Bath, a friend and wonderful woman sent me this link: http://www.youtube.com/embed/lJ7AfSO2fKs?rel=0

I love, love, love it.  And that video shows why, even as much as I hurt right now, I will have another dog.  Not now.  That's not fair to Fritz.  That's not fair to me.  .... but eventually.

getting easier....

It's getting easier, and that makes me sad.

Meal times and bedtime are the hardest.  I suppose, because I was busy on Saturday, yesterday was harder.  Saturday my mind was occupied, but yesterday I could just be sad.  And I was ... but then this morning I woke up, and I immediately thought of Fritz and my other doggies, and I realized, while I did miss him, I wasn't as sad.  So that, of course, made me feel guilty.  He was such a wonderful, wonderful dog he deserves for me to be sad longer.  Miss him more.

Then I went to feed Georgia O'Keeffe and Dolce, and a wave of sadness hit me.  That made me feel better.  (I know my family will understand this; we're woven from the same cloth.  Maybe others will understand it too.  I hope so.)

I walked down the hallway and saw a small clump of Fritz hair.  I started to bend down and pick it up, and then I thought, "No.  Leave it.  A little longer won't hurt."  (Aren't you glad you aren't visiting me and my house right now!?)

Today I go to the vets and pick up the Fritz' paw prints. I know that will be hard.  I requested two copies.  One for me and one for Marshall.  Hopefully that's what I get.  His paws were huge.  I was showing Mark his little baby picture, and I remarked, "See?  Even as a puppy, you could see how big those feet were going to get!"  ...and they did.

But overall, it's getting easier.  Last night Georgia O'Keeffe was even chewing on the bone they used to fight over.  The one she merely slept by that first night.  She still looks over at his bed...but not as much. Dolce still tries to get a dropped morsel of food from his kennel, and I wonder how much longer that will last.  I'm guessing not much.  (and, of course, that will make me sad and make me feel guilty.)

We're going to the beach today.  I know that will be good for me.  The beach is good for EVERYTHING, but I'll also feel sad.  I'll feel guilty for getting out and attempting to have fun.  I'll feel guilty leaving Georgia O'Keeffe alone without her friend.  ...but life does go on.

Another thing I feel guilty about:  I KNOW everything happens for a reason.  I KNOW God uses each and every situation and turns it around.  This is not something I simply think or believe, this is something I KNOW, and yet, I haven't turned this over to Him.  I haven't reconciled that God is in control and that Fritz was not really mine.  Fritz was God's.  He only loaned him to me.

My Bible reading today was the Beatitudes and I did love that God will comfort those who mourn.  Something I know, but I so often appreciate God's timing in reminding us of those things that we do already know.

Yesterday was a HUGE day in the world of Mary Kay.  It was the final day of the MK year.  My cousin, who is also my Director, was this close ----><----- to earning her pink cadillac.  So it was fun following everyone's posts on facebook as Beth's team and unit pulled together to achieve PINK.  That made me happy and made me smile and made me feel good.  I needed that.  My soul needed that.

God's timing is always perfect.  God's reasonings are always perfect.  God's ways are always perfect.  We may not always understand, and we may not always like it .... but we must always believe that He does have our best in mind, and He does know our future and what is best for that future.  He calls us to simply believe and obey, and I know my life has always worked out when I have followed Him, and I know my life has always screwed up when I didn't.  So, I continue to trust in God and plug along.

I've been teasing Mark about bringing me home a baby German Shepherd, but on a serious note, we've been talking about our next dog.  We don't want to get one now.... too soon.  But we also don't want to wait too long .... Georgia needs a companion.  We're thinking maybe the end of summer.  I want to look into German Shepherd rescue sites or maybe even German Shorthaired Pointer rescue sites.  Unless God steers us in a different direction, that's where we are leaning.

For some strange reason, Mark does not think Eva Braun is a good name for our next family member.  He's funny sometimes.  Other times he is really smart, because he thinks Martin Luther is the perfect name.  He may be on to something ....
Other suggestions are welcomed.  Some friends have made suggestions.  Of those I do like Marlena Dietrich and Sargent Schulz.  I somewhat like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, but I'm afraid that name could be dog abuse, plus, I'd always have that stupid song stuck in my head.  (Rock Me, Amadeus!)  So .... we'll see.

we're getting there.  I'm getting there.
but I do feel guilty that I am......................................

and then I see his picture, and I lose it.