Catching up and letting go - Part 2

First, an update on Belle. I just talked to the vet and she is holding her own. She had company throughout the night as he had several sick animals to look after. This morning she is a bit more alert, but has diarrhea and is still refusing food. He has agreed that I can likely bring her home tomorrow, either with an IV or with injectible antibiotics and SubQ fluids if necessary. I want her here at home regardless of the prognosis. If it will not endanger her life to be home, then this is where she belongs.

Ellen and the whippets left this morning, but not before giving me plenty of opportunity for a photoshoot. This was the first time I had met Logan, who was adopted in April, and what a sweetie he is. He and Kinley decided they really liked Charley's petmate bed, and snuggled up together in it on more than one occasion. I have dozens of photos to go through, but here are some of my favourites:

Hi! I'm Logan!

I like Auntie Jean's couch!

I love my brother Kinley - he makes a comfy pillow!

I'm watching you!

Ah! Nap time!

Paws, legs and tails entwined

The baby birds in the birdhouse on my shed are feeding ravenously, and yesterday I sat under my apple tree for a couple of hours photographing them. It was very therapeutic - watching baby birds begin their life's adventure as my Oliver, and possibly Belle, end theirs. Here's a few of my favourite photos of them:

Any sign of supper?

Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!

Me first!

More, please!

Yum! Regurgitated Grubs!

The cooler May weather has enabled the spring flowers to last longer, and I must share this beautiful, beautiful deep pink dogwood that Charley, Sadie and I passed by on our morning walk:

And this clematis has flowers the size of dinner plates - the photo does not do it justice:

In my own garden, these perennial beauties have appeared:











It is so quiet around here with only two dogs right now. Charley seems baffled - last night she kept wandering around looking for Belle, it seems, and turning her puzzled eyes to me. Charley knew Oliver had passed away - in fact, it was she who awoke me that awful night, when Oliver's body was still warm but the heart had stopped - but with Belle she only knows that I carried her out of the house and did not bring her back. It is another reason to take care of Belle at home.

And I know the dogs pick up on my emotions too, and so I am working hard at managing them and bringing the laughter back into my life. But the anger I feel at the person who was hired specifically to keep my little orange boy safe is hard to dispel.

My heart cannot heal, I need some revenge!
I need her to hurt as I do.
I need her to feel what Oliver felt as he
Struggled in water so blue.
I want to cause pain though I know it is wrong,
I want her to wail and keen,
I want to just take her and hold her head under
The water , although that is mean.
To dissolve my anger is my only intent,
Not really “a limb for a limb”.
The dog whom I loved would never have hurt
A soul, even those who hurt him.

And so last night, Ellen and I made a gingerbread woman, wrote the petsitter’s name on it, and then DROWNED HER IN A BOWL OF SALTY WATER! <<<<<< insert evil grin and manic laughter here >>>>>>>. The waves splashed, hands grabbed, and gingerbread woman thrashed and fell apart. Of course, we ended up laughing ourselves silly until the dogs were ready to phone the men with the little white jackets. Sometimes a warped sense of humour and a symbolic ritual is the only way to handle the events which cause us pain but which we cannot change. Thank goodness for a good friend who understood my need for this.

Well, that's the end of HER!

And so we move on, still grieving my Oliver, awaiting his ashes for the final step of returning his earthly body to the ground, but knowing that life must continue and only time will help to heal this broken heart.

We are born, we live, we die. From baby birds and springtime blooms, to aging dogs and ashes, the cycle of life reveals itself over and over again. Despite the grief and hurt and harm, it is still a beautiful world.