Furry Beloveds

this is my blog where i come to vent.

i do not come here very often anymore; not like when he first died.

but i do come back.

the people i first met here, the widows and widowers who first commented and

engaged me in conversations, who befriended me

have mostly dropped off the horizon.

they're lives have taken them away from the need to come back here.

they are busy, remarried, adjusting without the need to speak to it.

i think i am a little bit lonelier then they.

in a different place in my heart?

not sure but i still do come here to write.

but i wanted anyone, everyone who reads to know that i am not in constant pain.

i am not suffering as i once was.

i am not over it though.

but i have accepted what has happened and what happens {present tense}.

i also wanted to show you happy pictures.

here is me {so to speak} with one of my Furry Beloveds.

Scootie Wootums is my little boy Scottie.

he likes to snuggle.  so do i.  it's a match made in Heaven.

my Dragon during one of our misty morning walks with our dogs on the beach in front of our home.

they and i were much younger.  he was still here.

now they and i are much older and he is not here.

but the memories.....

Scootie asking to go outside for walkies.

my sweet girl, Carmen Sophia, sharing her soul.

i sometimes feel a great loneliness when i see and know and realize that people are going home from work to their families, to busier lives than i have.

but then i walk into my Sanctuary to excited barks and wiggly butts and happy smiles

and know that i am also home to a busy, albeit slower paced, life and i relax and feel at peace.

i am home with my Furry Beloveds and there are walkies to be had and suppers to be made and snuggling to be done.

and when it's lights out, they are still there with me, yes, on the bed, and i can reach out and get a kiss.

if i have a nightmare they wake me from it.  

they are not therapy dogs.

they just love me.

and i love them.

time

there is nothing to stop time and life from moving on.

certainly not grief.

life just keeps going.

bills must be paid.

chores must be done.

you just do it while you hurt.

the thing now is to find the smiles,

the tiny things that make the passing of time,

the moving away from the moment of his death,

the realization that my life is forever changed,

those things that make me okay ~ for the time being.

she could be any young mother holding her baby looking out the window.

it could be from any time period.

i took it today while i was over visiting her and my grandson.

she is my baby.  my oldest child.

all grown up.

time passed.

i turned around and she grew up.

she married.

she is now a mother.

the little girl with the long, tangled hair who

loved to wear tutus over her jeans and sang so loudly to our dog

had left me for a time as she did all the adult things of college, work, getting married.
she was as gone as if she walked into the forest to never come back.

but i see her again

as she discovers the magic of being young again.

she sings to her son.

she holds him and cuddles him.

she talks to him about ducks and flowers and ladybugs.

 she sings the songs i used to sing to her and her brother.

she carries him around and doesn't put him down for a nap,

but lets him nap on her,

as i used to do her and her brother.

she says she remembers how i was when she was little

and she wants to do the same thing for her son.

i got teary.

we hugged and she asked me to teach her the words to a song she remembers the tune to but not the words.

so i taught it to her today.

that's what she was singing when i took the photo of them.

time will pass.

the sun will rise and it will set

all without him here.

but he is here with me.

i don't feel him near as in a presence.

i simply acknowledge to my quiet life that i love him.

and always will.

i work a lot and very hard.

but when i am home, i read, sew, and do it all while sitting with my lovely, furry roommates.

this is how we roll.

comfy on the sofa.

together.

snuggle buddies.

 but again i can see the passing of time; that cold, careless, unsympathetic torturer of relationships.

my gentle Scootie Wootums is getting older.  i can see his soft little face getting whiter.

he can't leap like he used to.

he likes to lay in the sunshine so that the warmth seeps into his bones.

 i understand that kind of pain.

i hurt deep in my back.

i hurt deep in my arms, my hands, and my knees are failing.

but i cannot stop working.

i have to provide for myself.

my sweet Carmen Sophia is getting older as well.  she and Scootie are litter mates.

they have only been separated once.

they were sold to different homes as puppies and grieved for each other.

they were returned to the breeder because they refused to eat.

once together again, they were happy.

i was called because i was on the list as a rescuer of dogs, given mostly senior dogs who were abandoned due to age.

so i took them in as puppies and have had the privilege of being in their lives all their lives.

and now, they are both older than i am.

time marches on and it's crushing me to see them get old.

i know what's coming.

so i take pictures.

i have so many pictures over our years together.

i love these dogs like i've loved no other that i have had in my life.

and i have deeply loved all my dogs.

i do not know how i will handle their passing.

but i will have to find a way.

time is not an enemy.  it simply is.

i try every day to appreciate the few who remain in my life.

i adore my Carmen Sophia and Scootie Wootums.

and i adore my daughter, my son, and my grandson.

time will pass and i will grow old.

but i have them.

and they make time worthwhile.

transitioning

 my store is closing.  they are closing my store.  that was the news i got 4 weeks ago next Thursday.  it slammed into me like a fist into my stomach.  my first thought was "no money and no health care."

i cried.  they let me go home that day because i was so very devastated.  they offered me a part time job back at the store i trained at, at that moment, i accepted.  but the next day i started looking for work.  that evening i had an interview lined up with Stride Rite - shoes.  selling bears to selling shoes.   they offered me a full time assistant manager position at a store the same long distance from my little apartment but it comes with health care so i took it.  $1 an hour less in pay.  so i took it.  because jobs are so hard to find and this one literally fell into my lap.  one week exactly from the day i heard they were closing my store, i had another job to walk into.

i was lucky and i know it.  but i am still scared.  tomorrow starts my new job.  first question?  what is the pay period?  when do i get a paycheck again?  second question?  when does health care kick in?

transitioning is so very scary for someone like me.  i'm still a Bunny of a woman.  i'm quiet.  i seldom defend myself.  case in point.  when i had to return the keys to my store, one of the part time managers at the store i returned them to told me i was crazy for accepting the job i did, that i was stupid to accept a job where i would still have to drive so far, and on and on.  what did i say in return?  nothing.  i cried and walked away.  she saw me crying.  she knew she had made me cry.  i did not look back.  what do you say to someone who points things out like that?  "is your life so miserable that you relish every opportunity to make someone cry and feel scared?  do you look in the mirror and see the monster i see inside you?"

but Bunny says nothing.  she just cries and walks away, and, of course, has yet another place and person she avoids.  such cruelty in the world.  thoughtless acts.  purposeless.

 i closed and locked the doors to my store for the last time on Good Friday.  i peeked back in and cried.  i cried for all the fuzzy friends i will not get to make.  i cried for the uncertain future i am headed into.  i cried out of fear and loneliness.  i cried all the way home.

home.  when i got home there they were.  my two friends.  they love me unrestrained.  they have no self-interests.  there is no evil in them, no malice.  they are incapable of revenge or cruelty.  dogs are "the rich man's guardian and the poor man's friend, the only creature faithful to the end."  ~ George Crabbe.

i love them.  i anticipate their greetings as i hurry up the stairs.  i open the door and sigh with relief.  i am with them again.  our little pack of three are reunited.  all is well within the sanctuary of our small little place.  we all pile on the bed and we all three sigh.  snuggle time.  cuddle time.  time to rest together.  one of our pack is now gone forever, and i know that these two will see him before i will.  but for now, we are together, and i can cry, ask them questions, "what do you think about this, or that?"  they listen with all the intensity of a worried therapist.  they lick my tears and sit on my legs trapping me, drifting off knowing that if i move, they will awaken.

transitioning is hard on them, too.  my daughter is coming over on breaks or after her own shift to walk them until my hours are figured out.  the first week i am being trained and have to drive an hour to another store and an hour back.  the company is paying for mileage but i do worry about my dogs, my friends, my babies; so my daughter is coming to walk them.    i can find comfort during the day in that.

so life has decided that i am to do something different now.  from bears to shoes.  a job of serving others.  on my knees fitting shoes to others' feet.  humble.  very humble.  i asked my children if they were ashamed that i had come to this and they said, no, that they were so very proud of me.  they felt i had earned this "move up" and they it was meant to be.  it all happened so fast and so easily.

i have no idea what lessons i am now supposed to learn and/or what i am to give to everyone now, but i guess i'll go with the flow.  i'll work, and learn, and give and give.  i'll keep my head down and work.

once i transition into this job i have made a promise to myself, set a new goal.  i want to try to be happy.  i want to try and find a way to accept this life better, be on better terms with it, because i am tired of being so afraid and so depressed.  i miss him badly.  i miss him as a friend, companion, lover, husband, as someone who truly cared about me.  i miss him, but i have to keep going and i want to do that "keep going" thing better than i have been.  fear and worry and grief have taken their toll on me.  so i am going to try to find "happy."  or i could grade on a curve and find "doin' okay."  i'd accept that.

life is a journey.  "doin' okay" first, then "happy."

and i'll take my little Carmen Sophia and Scootie Wootums along with me.  after all, "i get by with a little help from my friends."

p.s. the Veteran's Administration has approved my waiver and released me from any obligation to pay them back for their mistake.  {just keep breathing, Bunny.  for some reason that went your way.  just keep breathing.}

i will follow you into the dark

i watched the movie, "Hachi," the other evening.  i knew in advance what it was about but i chose to continue on that path of plot awareness.  i needed to see loyalty.  i needed to be reminded that my dogs are probably {not} going to miss me like that, be that devoted to me, should i pass away before them.  {but i do pamper my soul; tell myself that they will sit and wait for me just like Hachi.

dogs can sense when death is approaching.  it is a natural thing for them.  they are not complicated like humans.  they accept what cannot be changed.

i accept, but i do cry over it.

in all the reading i've done since he died, i have not really fond one that explores the fear, wonder, worry, curiosity of what happens when we die, after we die.  where do we go?  it is based on faith or lack of it but really, i have been thinking of this off and on ever since i saw the life leave him.  doing CPR ocer someone, knowing you are losing, seeing/feeling them "go" marks you.  well, it marked me.

what is he doing right now?  what is he thinking?  is he happy?  is there an ocean?  is he on some cloud?  can he see me?  does he know that i am sobbing as i type this?  he is alert?  cognizant?  did he keep any memories of me?  is he with his dog?  has he told my dogs i still love them?

has he met my son who died?

is there light where he is?

or dark?  just dark and empty?

i believe in God.  but.

i don't know where he is or where i will go or if i will get to be with him and eventually my two beloved children.

will i lose myself when i die; the stuff that makes me me and so irritating to the masses, yet so interesting?  {<~ that interesting part is sarcasm}  but will the thoughts i think vanish when i die?  will i know him?  will he still like me and want to hang out with me?  will will we be able to find each other?

or will it be dark?

as a child i was never afraid of the dark.  i was afraid of what was in the dark.  i was afraid of my mother.  i was afraid of my brother.  i was afraid of Voldemort.  i was afraid of all the evil that lurks out there; like the DMV if they think you filled out a paper wrong.  {got a $50 for filling out a paper in correctly so when i went tot he DMV to pay the fine the woman said, "effing ridiculous.  most people ignore that paper and you tried.  so you checked a box wrong.  no, i'm not taking the fine.  here's a receipt.  keep it in your car."  i feel like a rebel.  i feel like an outlaw.  are they looking for me?  will they find me driving down 485 some night after work and pull me over; arrest me?  see?  i worry.}

i don't mind the dark.  you can see the stars at night.  you can see the moon.  the night breeze can be soft or wildly blowing leaves that crinkle and sound crisp, much like potato chips on a plate.

when i die, will i be okay, finally?  after all i've been through, will i be okay?  will i be safe?

when i die will there be that light and will i hear his voice?  will i feel that old familiar calloused roughness of his hand clasping mine, pulling me towards him, towards an eternity of love and safeness {i don't think that's a word but i'm crying and i don't care}?

i have written 3 books.  a friend of my daughter's is an English professor at a university.  she sent him a burned CD of one of my books.  he said he despised my ability to write as i do.  he told her he has tried to write like that all his life.  he also said i was, and i quote, "a shining golden god in a kingdom of mice, who is afraid of the mice."  he told her to tell me to get off my shy butt and start searching for a literary agent.  i don't know where to start searching or how to do it that my work won't get stolen.

so question, forget this life, what about the next?  will i lose my mind when i die?  will i lose everything?  will i close my eyes and there will be nothing?  will God forget me?  abandon me?  send me to Hell for the things i've thought?  wanted to do ~ the bad things like tell someone off?

there are times, God forgive me, when i sleep in on Sundays.  i hurt physically so badly, am so exhausted that i stay in bed.  i pray every day, but is that enough?  will He really accept my excuses?

or will He, seeing as i am not an entirely heinous person, just leave me to fumble around in the dark?

as long as i don't run into my mother, or my ex, or threats from the DMV, or people from work, maybe walking around an empty landscape in the dark for eternity will be my own kind of peace.

"if heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied, illuminate the NO's on their vacancy signs.  if there is no one beside you when your soul embarks, i will follow you into the dark."

 i'd like there to be light.  i'd like there to be snow in the Winter and warm Summer breezes.  i'd like the crinkly, potato chip sound of leaves falling in the Fall, and the smell of flowers and fresh cut grass in the Spring.  i'd like there to be an ocean with the water swelling over stones that sounds like the rattling of bones.

but if that is not what i have earned, then i will follow him.  into the light.  into the dark.  i will close my eyes here and start my search for him there.  and if that search takes an eternity, searching for my dogs, waiting for my children, calling out to him, i will at least be spending my eternity doing something.  my soul has a calling.  i want to be with my family and my dogs.

the scenes in the movie of Hachi's face as he aged, the whiteness of his fur as he got older and older, so magnificent.  the intentness in his eyes as he heard the whistle of the train and his steadfast gaze on the door as people spilled out.  and his sadness, his loneliness as he settled back down to wait for the man who would never come back was gut wrenchingly, poignantly beautiful.

people move on.  dogs can grieve forever.  the other day i called out for Carl.  and both my dogs leap off the bed and raced to the door of the apartment.  Carl has never been in this apartment, but they ran to meet him because i called out for him.  i felt like a dick.  they came racing back to bed and cuddled around me.  they laid across my legs as if to say, "we'll lay on top of her so she won't go away."

i don't want to suffer anymore.  i don't want any more pain.  i would like the afterlife to be peaceful and calm and surround by my children {eventually} and my dogs, and in his arms.  i want to hear his laugh again.  i want to walk with him again.

i want to die and then my soul soar to him and a few fuzzy faces who dance and race to meet me.  who lick my face and rub their noses against my skin.

i want to be met.  greeted.  even if i do follow everyone into the dark, at least we will all be together.

fair / unfair / c'est la vie

c'est la vie.  isn't that what they say when life hands you troubles?  

such is life.  life isn't fair.

we learned that in kindergarten.  someone takes your sandwich.  someone tears up your drawing.  someone makes fun of you when you fall down and skin your knee.

and no one does anything about it.

such is life.  life isn't fair.

i've had a run of bad luck, or just a run of "life."  some good things have happened.  some bad things have happened.  a lot of bad things.

is it fair that i have a part time manager who lies on her time sheet; who gets paid for upwards of 15 - 20 minutes of work when she wasn't there yet?  how does she do it?  when she opens, she is there at the last minute.  2 minutes before the store opens.  when the next manager doing the close shift comes in, she claims she didn't get clocked in and would we do it.  i've called more than once, 20 minutes before, 15, 10, and finally 3 minutes before and she doesn't answer.  or she has called me a few minutes after open asking for computer help opening the store.  by the time the doors are open, those registers should be open.  the other part time manager asked me if i was suspicious.  we both just nodded our heads in agreement.  she's cheating.  nothing we can do about it without causing a HUGE deal over it.  very political stuff involved with her and who this girl is dating.

is this fair?  no.

i was deathly afraid of my mother and father all my growing up years.  

is this fair?  no, but my childhood could have been worse.  much worse.  

i was afraid of my first husband.  is this fair?  no.  but they don't have "and they lived happily ever after" in the marriage vows.  and vows, for some people, mean nothing.

i retreat sometimes to my mind.  i go to a place in my mind where i create an environment that makes me calm and at peace.

like the photo below.  i could lay there and listen to the water, the gulls, feel the breeze, and relax.

 is it fair that i had bought my clutch for my old car and called around only to get horrible men tell me horrible things like, "let me talk to your man."  or "lady, this is the best price around so if you want it, book it, otherwise stop wasting my time."  to "drop off the car, i'll take a look at it and let you know. Enterprise can pick you up.  they have great weekly deals.  we'll get to your car when we get to it."  

rudeness.  lots of rudeness.  lots of terrible customer service from ads of places that say, "100% customer satisfaction."  is this fair?  no.  is it done every day?  yes.

the badness i wrote about was about my dogs.  my beautiful little dogs.  my friends.

the lady downstairs complained.  she's almost 90 and she likes to sleep before she goes to bed.  when i work at night, sometimes, my dogs will bark.  they are afraid of the dark and they look outside waiting for me and will see a cat, or a person walking their dog, or hear a noise and it will scare them.  and, mostly Carmen Sophia, will bark for a bit.  it scared me so bad.  i cannot lose them.  i cannot afford to move.  even if i moved, it could be from the frying pan into the fire.  

spiral down.  i spiraled down into an abyss that was hard to get up from.

 only darkness in front of me.  my little dogs.  

i panicked.  i went into a full-fledged hyperventilating panic attack.  how could i fix this?  what could i do to save my dogs?  i put their thunder shirts on them before i left.  i kept the tv on and all the lights on.  i blocked the sliding glass window and the small window in the bedroom.  and i gave them benadryl to make them calm.  so far it has worked.

but to make sure i also ordered a dog silencer machine that puts out a sound that humans can't hear but dogs can when they bark.  it is an annoyance to them and trains them not to nuisance bark.  i feel a little bit better about it.  but i still carry the scars of the panic and i still carry the worry that it will all change back and someone will try to take my dogs away again.

i'm scarred.   was it fair?  no, but then it isn't fair that the little old lady downstairs had her sleep interrupted by two scared little scotties. 

i sometimes wonder how i can continue to live like this; live so very scared all the time.  i never really rest unless i force myself to go to that place in my mind where i know i would be happy.

it would be a stone house beside the ocean.  my two little dogs and i would be safe.  no one would/could threaten us.  i go there and design my home in my mind.  i plan the gardens.  i put up photos and lay quilts on the sofas and beds.  there are alcoves for reading and resting.  there is a warm, cozy kitchen to make small meals in.  my dogs and i would be safe.

safe is all i want.  safe with no one trying to change my life, make me give up things, take from me.

funny thing, in my dreams, i don't have any friends.  i am alone with my dogs.

but i am back with him.  or he is back with me.

and there is no fair or not fair.  there is just home.

but it's all a dream and i know it.

i need my dreams.  i need that safe place to go to where things go right.  i need my "home" and my dogs right with me.  i need the ocean and the coming Fall and Winter where we stayed close to home and took care of each other.   fire in the wood stove.  stew cooking.  mulled cider in a cup.  books to read on the sofa where we piled together.  all of us.  man.  woman.  and two little dogs.

happened once.  never to happen again.  c'est la vie.

but life cannot take the memories from me nor can it take my dreams.

if i can still shut out the world and dream, make up my fantasies, then i still have the strength to get up and fight against the bad things that happen that make me say,

"son of a bitch!  what the f***!  what more do you effing want from me!?"

and yes,

"c'est la vie."

suicide and hope ~ opposites sides of the same coin

when i wrote my last posting, i was in shock. Christmas with my daughter is not exactly as i would like it, but there was another thing that happened that day. i received a phone call that morning from the son of a woman i have be building a friendship with.

she is close to me in age. 2 years older. she is widowed. 3 years in January. her children are grown. so are mine. i work a lot but we have been speaking, meeting every once in a while for lunch when i can pay for mine. she had been kind to me when i lost my Church widow friend to the sudden heart attack.

the phone call early Tuesday morning was to tell me that she had taken an overdose of sleeping pills and had passed quietly during the night. her son is devastated. so am i.

i knew she was hurting. so am i. i knew she was sad. so am i. i knew she was missing him terribly. i am missing my Dragon so very much. i did not know she was thinking of taking her life.

i do not know how i missed it. her son does not know how he missed it. i went to her wake last night and i came home and cried. i have mixed feelings about this and will need to work them through in my own heart before writing more. but i just wanted to at least tell someone this. people who may feel my shock and share my sorrow, pain, intense wonder at her decision, all the questions and thoughts that cross a person's mind when they learn that .....

someone took their life because they were too sad to live.

i am sad, but the intensity she felt is not something i share with my friend. i have awe-inspiring storms that rumble and blow through my life. i get scared. i get intimidated. i get upset. it never crosses my mind to give up on living. my Dragon would be hurt and angry and devastated that i could not live without him; that his love had not made me strong, but broken me down. my children would be destroyed.

and in thinking of my own children, i would never want them to give up on life simply because i had died. oh, God, it would break my heart to see them in such despair.

i am widowed. it is still my belief that i always will be widowed. i have no interest in dating or finding anyone. but having said that, i have not given up on myself. i am eating as best i can to take care of the diabetes and high blood pressure. since May 31st, i have lost 27 pounds.
i eat healthy, inexpensive but healthy, like my friend up there. {still can't believe i got that shot just off my Dragon's and my beach where we spent so much of our time.}

i still dream. my dreams are for a small little home. humble and safe with a little garden and fence for my scotties. i'd call it Scotland Yard. just little fantasies that keep my spirit humming along. day dreams that allow my soul to feel nurtured and to let my creativity run free.
i keep up with the people i have "met" here as part of this lonely journey. Dan, Boo, Deb, SSSF, Rose, Sandy, Judy, Suzann, Lys, etc. all of you are important to me. i have lost some along the way. women for whom i wasn't enough. women who have passed ~ my Church friend who died and now this lovely, lonely lady.

we have to stay together. we must keep up with each other. some of us are flying faster than others. some of us, like me, are lolly-gagging at the back soaking up the sun while we drift along on our own little breeze. not all of us grieve the same way at the same time. that is what makes us all so wonderful.
but we must be kind to each other. we must try to stay in touch, check in every once in a while. and if we feel that one of us is in despair, then maybe we can reach out.

my last conversation with my friend who committed suicide was this:

"Bunny, i feel so lost."

"me, too, but we can be lost together. i am hoping that maybe, one day soon, maybe after this holiday season, we can sort of find our way again. it's just temporary, this being lost. it's Christmas and we feel their absence. we'll hang on together. just call me whenever you want to talk."

but she didn't call. instead, she took pills and now her son has lost both his parents. i feel for him so much. at the wake he looked like a deer in the headlights. his fiancee was right beside him. helping him. being there with him. i know she and him together will get through this.

as for me, i have lost another friend.

but i have the few that are sticking by me. today i returned home from work to an email from Dan. he is a blessing. he sent me an email that helped me and lifted my soul. Christmas can be so hard when you want things you cannot have. people like Dan who look back over their shoulders to check on us little ones; the only words are blessed. i feel humbled and grateful to say i know him and he is my friend.

Dan, thank you for being there even though you had no idea about the sad thing that had happened this week.

suicide and hope are opposites sides of the same coin. something terrible has happened that has caused you to experience a grief so profound that death has crossed your mind. you think about the afterlife. you wonder what is out there. you wonder if it is better. you wonder if you can join someone who has gone before you, your child, your mate, someone so important to you that life here has lost its color. but there are still reasons to continue to live the life that has been gifted to you. there is hope. i will never flip that coin. i will always hold it in my hand and then lay it carefully down in the center of the table. the side that has HOPE etched in it will always be shining upwards.

i pray we all hang in there. we all have so much to be grateful for. we all have someone still here who needs us, who loves us, and who waits for us to come home.
i pray that the peace that can be found at Christmas finds you all. i pray for the hope that we all need to find within reach, is right there for us to hang onto. and i wish for friends and family to surround you, even if it can only on the phone.

we are loved. we are needed. we are important.

i love you, Dragon. i am living. i am remembering you with smiles and laughter. and i will always love you. Merry Christmas.