Pengi

Today we had to say farewell to yet another good friend. Her name was Olea also known as Pengi. She was last in a line of amazing felines and we will never see their like again. Oleand(father), Sesha(brother), and Olea. We love you all. You touched all of our lives with humor, love,and more friendship than anyone could have expected from cats.

Morality and Me

As I have stated previously, I am looking for a new dog to bring into my home. Wow, what a ride that has been. Between adoption applications and consulting breeders, my feelings and opinions have waxed and waned more than the tide. My grandfather had a border collie that I adored as a child and ever since I have been somewhat obsessed with the breed. I came to the decision that that was the breed for me. I love them and always have and dammit I want one. I poured over books and websites, talked to my grandfather,rescue workers, my closest friends,and a breeder.

I went from wanting a rescue to considering a purebred dog of akc lineage. I continue to ask myself why? and what am I doing? Am I insane right now?(duh)

Admittedly, I got my hopes up on this puppy at a rescue and subsequently had my little childhood feelings hurt when another family was awarded better home for said dog. I was frustrated and said "to hell with it! I can go to a breeder! every dog needs a good home!" This is all true. I don't know if that is what I want. I do not know that I could morally handle not saving a little guy/gal from a foster home situation and contributing to the people that work so hard to help the animals I claim to love.

I have attempted to analyze my motivations for the particular breed. My grandparents home represents (especially in the era of Barney the border collie) the pinnacle of my childhood happiness. And my grandfather has such a magical relationship with his animals. I figured that was a great place to adopt a dog from.

Visually, the breeder's puppy that I have considered is everything I wanted. Black and white, beautiful coat. Most important is the right dog. No matter what the breed or situation. I just don't want to make a blind decision. If he is the right dog, none of this matters. Yes, I have to meet him to know. But, I still have this moral dilemma and questions about my internal process. Fortunately for me, puppies seem to be abundant. I also do not want this to be a reaction to what could have subconsciously been a big rejection to me from the first rescue I applied with. I know, I'm complicated. Part of me felt like a little kid and was yelling "I just want a dog!'

One of the nicest things my parents ever did for me was taking me to a shelter where I got my first dog. His name was Prince and he looked like someone had shrunk a black lab and gave him a longer coat. When I moved out of my parents house I left him behind. I was 17 and knew my road was uncertain and felt like I could not provide for him. That thought wells up feelings of guilt although I still feel like I made the right decision for him. When I would visit my parents after that he would sit on my lap and complain about it but he loved them. He used to run so fast I would call him a hockey puck because you could barely see him. I walked in the shelter and back to his cage and it was love at first sight. My mom and I picked him up the next day. He was 9months old and had been surrendered by his family because they were moving to a non dog location. He was so smart. I never had to train him. He just "got" things. The rivalry between him and my dad was comical. He would roll on my dad's clean white clothes or pee on them. He would sneak in their room at night and roll around under his half of the bed which always woke him up. But when he got so old he couldn't walk or remember to come home and they had to put him down, it broke my father's heart. I still remember him looking at me over his shoulder from his cage in the kennel. He had only arrived the day before.

In all fairness, I must explore every possibility and not close my heart because of some silly expectations. And I mean that in every direction. But I think I have my answer.

Learning

Money taught me a lot in the years we spent together. My capacity for love, compassion, patience, and appreciation grew. But I am finding that he is teaching me even now. I see animals differently and the relationship we have or should have with them. As I entertain the idea of a new dog I watch people and the animals in their charge closer than ever. My understanding of them has grown. I had heard many times before that an animals behavior is in result of the human. It is more apparent than ever and frightens me. A lot of people do not seem to have the tools to teach their pets and fulfill their lives. Just watch the dog whisperer or dog town. People treat animals as objects and do not give much consideration to their well being and breed. Hence so many animals end up at shelters or on the street or in need of behavior 911. I am in no means perfect but as I do with most things I desire as much information on the breed of dog I fancy and the species in general. An animal is a life and a responsibility. Not a toy. It is as deserving of respect and happiness as anyone of us. I have always loved dogs but I think I am becoming an enthusiast. They look to us. Man's best friend. What do we show them?

The range of needs and personalities is as much as the variety in the human population. Their history and breeds for protection, hunting, tracking, herding, companionship, etc are quite interesting to me. This new appreciation stems from my love for the Mo Man and wanting to be an adequate parent to whomever I adopt next.

I was discussing my new found appreciation of dogs the other day. I had not put much thought into what dogs represent symbolically. duh. Two possible aspects were presented. The bestial side of man or possibly the ego. As an extension of myself what would it be? Not quite there yet but I did consider that with so much thought and preparation that maybe I am attempting to better care and understand parts of myself. (lightbulb time) I like this idea but it gives me chills to think about my poor fish tank and my unending battle with algae. (deeper unconscious parts anyone?) I now have a vision of Money with a little yoda jacket on teaching me even in death. He was and is so special and I am even more thankful to have had him. I don't want to miss any part of this.

My sister recently lost her dog Two Tone. She did an amazing and honorable thing. She made the toughest decision in Two Tones best interest when most people selfishly would not have. She asked me if I ever see Money. I do. I did tonight. I was putting recycling in the container after walking in the house. When I turned around he was standing behind me wagging his tail with the "welcome home, what are we doing now". I am glad he is still around.

A different approach

or should I say he will never come home again. I know its morose but hey thats the truth. The truth that I am trying to deal with. I guess I was still hoping he would come home again even though he now resides in a sealed box on my bedside table. Well his physical remains anyway. God damn what I wouldn't give to have him next to me right now(not in box). I have fretted over sounding redundant or omg is she still on about that? Yep I am. I miss that little dude, my little friend. I am just coming to realize the above stated. I was hoping he would still come home. I was hoping I would wake up one morning and he would be there. His belongings have gone from a reminder to a hold. If I removed them before I may forget but if I remove them now it means finality. And holy shit I don't want that. This in no way negates anything I have stated or felt previously. I am still happy to have shared my life with him, so happy he is no longer in pain and yes he will always be with me. But I don't want to open this box. It disturbs me when I hold it to feel the contents moving inside. But if I open it I will see what is physically left of him further confirming that he is in fact gone. Yes, I firmly believe that he has moved on to where he needs to be now and I know that one day I will do the same. Maybe I am an idiot. I just miss him so bad. I do not want to accept that he is not coming back, that this is it. Our road has come to an end.

What is this? I cannot explain these feelings and I am a fairly rational person. 40lb dog in a 1lb box. I find that humorous at times. I do not feel sorry for myself. But I am still hurting. Still at a loss. Indeed, I am at a loss.

I titled this a different approach. It was in light of my thoughts of acquiring a puppy in the future. I believe that I will enjoy building a new and different relationship with a dog. Money and I were perfect as we were. Things were as they needed to be for both of us. I have given much thought to how I would want things to be with a new puppy. I considered that I want to try agility and obedience. I have begun watching dog programs on t.v. and reading books and websites attempting to glean any helpful information. I decided that I will approach this with a particular outlook. I see a future where I can raise a certain breed and focus on catering to specific needs not just for the dog but for myself. I would like a dog I can take anywhere that can assimilate to any situation. Not in a militant way but in a fun companion way. It occurred to me that with such thought and consideration I will be more likely to find just what I am looking for and that the dog will be more likely to be in need of me as well. I am not sure that I am conveying these thoughts very well. If I approach the situation with intent (fun,training,companion) an already formed idea of the traits I want and an idea at what the puppy could expect from me. I think i would be more likely to find a dog that suits my needs and vice versa. I will go into the situation with a better idea than me want dog, me want cute puppy. Hopefully, i will be a want ad that can be easily answered by a puppy. Sounds ridiculous I know but the theory is sound at least in my own mind. Who knew you could train a puppy from 6 weeks of age? I didn't.

Lately

I have been very emotional of late about Money. I have tried very hard to ignore and avoid it. That never bodes well so here I am again. Lately I have been looking at puppies online and given careful consideration to adopting one in the future. I think this has been a good step for me. When I say careful I mean to ensure that I do things for the right reasons. I would not want to bring another animal into my home to replace Money (#1 that is obviously impossible he was a special dude) or as a reaction to hiss loss and not being here. I think it is a good thing because I know that when I am ready I will be able to share my life again with an animal. Great that means healing. However it has also helped me to realize just how much I am not ready for that and that is okay. The amount of emotion that has come up with all of this has surprised me a great deal. I don't know why. He shared the most intimate part of my life when no one else was around. We laughed and cried and annoyed each other (sometimes on purpose =}) and snuggled and ran around like children. We played games of tag and explored the neighborhood. Shared food(intentional and not, he was a ninja). He bared witness to some of the most important parts of my life and calmed me down when I was upset. He was goofy and grumpy. At times he would smile or roll his eyes and even sigh. He would always look back over his shoulder to make sure I was there and I was. Just like he was for me. Now he is gone and that hurts so bad. I miss him so much. Admittedly I do not always have the easiest time connecting with people. The ease and understanding of my relationship with him is a constant reminder of that. I am not a recluse and it is not that I am incapable of understanding where people come from. I do not think that a relationship with an animal is less complex but maybe has a bit more honesty to it. Money was a master manipulator but it was not in a harmful manner(only to his waistline). The level of trust and love was earned on both ends. Man's best friend and he was mine. Of course, I am still happy and thankful for him and I think on happy times. But the pain is still there and sometimes it is at a comfortable level. Right now it isn't and I am trying to understand it and go through it.

I miss my funny money and my cuddle money. I miss telling him he looked ridiculous with one ear folded back. Trying to catch him on film when he would do his morning roll on his back and lay there all paws up. Singing to him that he was the best dog in the world even though he liked to play with dead squirrels. His tail would wag from the waist down as though he were spring loaded. I will always miss him.

The pain is constricting my throat and tenses my jaw. It bubbles out of me in tears that do not stop for some time. And right now I do not know how to deal with it and make it better other than to write about it and be as honest as I can.

holiday

Well the holidays are here. They bring an unusual sting with them this time. For the first time in twelve years we will be celebrating without the mo man. It doesn't just suck for me but for the rest of his family that loved him so much. I have not wanted to write about him because I felt like I was just repeating the same thing over and over again. So what if I am? I do not want to wallow in my feelings. I have attempted to focus on the happy times(which are numerous). This has helped. I want to always be happy and proud that I was able to share my life with such an awesome creature. He was and always will be so much more than just a dog. He was my friend and confidant. I kept thinking to myself "why couldn't this have happened after the holidays? there are so many leftovers I can't give him!" But then I could have come up with a million excuses to stave off the inevitable. The last year I began to appreciate that he would not be around forever. I became more patient and attempted to be more understanding of him. Not that I wasn't either of those things previously but it felt as if my understanding deepened. Even when he was begging like a maniac my irritation was put off because I would rather have him do that then not have him at all. I would have rather him wake me up to take him out than not have him to take out. I was saddened by the fact that I did not have to strategically place myself on the side of my apartment building to avoid the wind so he could stay outside longer.

I usually write my thoughts out on paper so as to make them more cohesive but I was concerned I would not do it at all if I waited. My point is that it still sucks and I still miss him and it still hurts like hell. But thank god for all of those days and nights standing in the cold,chasing him when he found chicken bones the squirrels had dropped or he had wandered into the neighbors yard,all the "nice to meet you's", the tap dancing feet,the stand on your head when you want to work out,the eat your cough drops while you're sleeping,and the honed nose of a beagle who can find your most hidden treats. You mean that chocolate wasn't for me face? And let's not forget the internal conversation of "how mad will she be if i eat her granola bar?"

Bonding

Money was going through a tough time. His sister Alice had become ill and needed special attention. This put a lot of restrictions on him. He became a little bummed out and I could see it. Being a pound puppy, he was attention starved even at this point in life. Growing up I experienced similar situations so I could relate. I reached out to him and decided he was going to be my best buddy. I made sure whenever I saw him to give as much extra love as possible. I guess we had more in common than I realized. This in no way is a slag on his first parents. They loved him immensely and gave him the best home possible but he became jealous of his sister. For everyone's best interest it was time for him to move on and I declared that it should be with me.

I speak of this lightly but in retrospect helping him was helping me. It was helping the little girl that had been put to the side all of her life. Again this is in no way a detriment to others. Money just needed that extra reassurance and the number one spot. I suppose that psychologically I was equipped perfectly for the job. Oddly enough my cat Sesha did not seem to mind but he was also an awesome furball. The three of us would take long walks and lay in the yard in the sun for hours. Sesha would sleep on my head and Money at my side. Money was there for some major things in my life and helped me through them. The death of my grandmother, the tumultuous end of a relationship,and the death of Sesha. Anytime I was sick or just sad he would lay in bed with me. I remember sharing a triple cream brie cheese,fig spread,and water crackers with him one night. I usually shared all of my food with him including chips ahoy cookies. When he was sick I did the same for him. We were important to each other even if noone else thought so or at least we didn't think they thought so. The amount of people that knew and loved him or were just touched by him and his passing is testament to that. I reckon for me, I knew he loved me no matter. It was unconditional love and I have not known that from many people. For him to be gone is scary as hell for me in that respect. Fortunately for both of us that love never dies and it will always be with us. I know the words and they make sense but I don't completely believe it yet or I am afraid it will not be true for me.