Four in the bed and the little one said, “When are you guys getting up? I want pancakes!”
Seriously, even the dog was annoyed.
Forget your troubles; come read about mine
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EmailYesterday morning, our dog almost got run over.
My husband and my son were walking her when she suddenly darted away and into the path of a school bus which, in my husband’s words, “…was not going to stop.” My son witnessed the entire incident.
When they returned home, he was one shaken-up kid and insisted upon giving me a play-by-play.
And, I know it was an honest account of what happened, because after he went on and on about Daisy’s near-fatal mistake, he ended the story with, “It was so terrible! I was scared 3/4 to death!”
If you read my last post, you know that Thursday was a really sad day for us. So was Friday, and Saturday, and Sunday. My son actually said, “Our house doesn’t even feel like a home anymore.” We’re getting there though. We have cried a little less each day.
In addition to sadness, there have been glimmers of good. It started when we took a walk just a couple of hours after we put Blue down. I took this photo and noted that it had been gray and cloudy all day until we decided to take a walk to Blue’s favorite pond.
The next day, I was looking at the picture again, when I suddenly saw Blue in the clouds.
See her? With her tennis ball and shark fin angel wing? My friend, Melisa, who once wrote a book for children about the loss of a pet, told me that I would start seeing signs everywhere.
On Friday, my daughter’s teacher was telling a story about a book she had just read. She was moved to tears by the death of the main character’s 14 year old dog.
That same evening, my husband was watching a fishing show. He fishes, but he never watches fishing shows. Well, that’s not true, we both watch Deadliest Catch, but not really for the fishing; more for the train wreck of chain-smoking, crab-boat crews. Anyway, he was watching this fishing show that kept making reference to catching something called a “Blue Dog.”
And, in church yesterday, the homily was about being reunited with those you love; all of us restored, whole and without pain.
Thank you, Blue. I hope you keep sending us messages.
Also, if you could keep those messages off of the bottom of my shoe, I would be really grateful.
A few days ago, I lifted our old dog, Blue, off the floor and as she hobbled across the living room, my nine year old son stood watch.
Our 14 year old Labrador has had bad hips for awhile, but recently one of her front legs went out and she’s had a tough time walking at all. After she and I had slowly passed through our porch, I let her out of the back door and turned to find my son standing there with tears in his eyes.
Before I could say anything he said, “Mom, my eyes are kind of watery.”
I knelt down and grabbed his shoulders. “What’s the matter, buddy?”
He replied, “Well, I’m sad for two reasons. Blue is hurting and she’s old, so I know that means she’s going to die soon.”
I nodded. “Yes, but after she dies she’s going to run and chase squirrels and bunnies again, just like she used to.”
His eyes widened, then he stuck his fingers under his glasses and wiped his tears away. Suddenly, a smile crept over his face and he said, “Wow! She’s going to have a blast in heaven!”
We love you, Blue and we’re wishing you tons of tennis balls and mailmen. Saying goodbye to you was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but I wouldn’t trade you being part of our family for anything.
Blue 4/17/98 – 4/26/12
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