A Year's Remembrance

I could never say enough, Owner, dearest friend, to thank you for the love you gave to me, until the end.

I’m sorry that I hurt you by saying my goodbye. You gave me such a happy home, I lived a happy life. I leapt and played and laughed in ways you maybe couldn’t see. Of all the pets you might have loved, I’m glad that you chose me.

It’s okay to miss me, for I miss you too.

It’s okay to bow your head and cry if you have to.

However hard it seems today, your dear sweet heart will heal.

For now, my friend, remember me and feel what you must feel. But don’t give up on loving, Owner, dearest friend. Although the cost is oh so high, it’s worth it in the end — to know that you made this pet’s life the best one it could be. It should be no mystery why you meant the world to me.

So here’s my final word, my friend, this is my last wish: Find another lonely pet, then give to them my dish. And every time they make you smile, know that I’m smiling too, still so proud to once have been a dearest friend to you.

Love, always.”

A year ago this morning, I was awoken to one of the most terrible phone calls of my life.  My little Diego, who had been in the hospital for three days, was under cardiac arrest, and the vet was calling to see if I wanted them to revive him.  Before I could even process what they were saying to me, I heard the woman on the other line say, as clear as day...

Oh, I'm so sorry.  He just passed.  

He was barely nine years old.  It was a snowy morning, one that I will never forget.  As with the passing of any loved one, I mourned the loss of my cute little fluffy monster, and I watched with great heartbreak the broken heart of Dylan, the brother who he'd left behind.  For months, Dylanito was so sad, and every interaction with him only made me feel sadder for myself, and even more so for him.  As they say, time heals all wounds, and this is very true.  Though it took awhile, Dylan and I have both healed from Diego's loss.  I eventually got used to having only one little kitty around the house, and he got used to being the only kitty around.

I sometimes wonder if Dylan even remembers Diego.  I have no idea how a cat's mind works.  Every once in awhile I'll say his name aloud to see if there's any recognition in my little, eleven-toed panther, but there is none.  That's a good thing, I guess.  He's definitely been over his mourning period for months now, and that helped me get out of mine...but I will always remember my sweet little sunshine.  

A few weeks after Diego had passed, my mother sent me the following poem above.  In times of sadness, it brought out the tears that helped release the pain.  I wanted to share it here in case any pet owner out there has the need to hear it too.  

It's hard to believe it's been a year already.  I haven't thought much of him lately, but Diego will be in my mind all day today, and Dylan will get a little extra loving, too!    Here's the recitation of the poem, Owner, Dearest Friend, by Vivian Matthews:

Marley & Me?

I know that there are a gazillion people out there who consider themselves dog lovers, and I am not one of them.  Oh sure, I do love dogs, but I've never been in a situation in life where I'd ever even consider having one as a pet.  Dogs are cute and lovable and playful and all that, but they do take a lot of work, and living alone I think it'd not be very nice to leave one at home alone all day long.  That's why I have cats...they are much more self-sufficient.

Tonight, however, I almost...almost, had a change of outlook.  It all started innocently enough.  I was coming home from my nightly walk and as I let myself into my house I turned around to close the door and there was a dog who appeared out of nowhere, wanting to come in the house.

The dog was adorable, smallish and mostly black, and he (it was definitely a he!) seemed like he belonged to somebody though I'd never seen him around before.  And did I mention he was lovable?  Oh, he was so cute, wagging his til and cuddling right up close to me, then sitting on my lap...just sitting there!

After the initial shock and amusement at his cuteness wore off, I realized I had to do something, but what?  Call my friend Blanche!  He lives practically around the corner from me and he's got two dogs and a cat and he's a real animal person.  Yeah, he'd know what to do.  I took a photo and texted him...

I just got back from my walk and now I've got a visitor.

OMG! Do you know where he belongs?

No idea.

No tags?

Nothing, but he's obviously is trained, and he seems to want to stay.

Get him some water...Do you need help?

BINGO!  That's exactly what I needed.  I had no idea what to do.  I couldn't just go back in my house and pretend he wasn't there.  Blanche was over in a flash, and saw what I saw in the little thing.  Ow, he's so cute!  And friendly!  And he's definitely trained well.  

Yes, the pooch was adorable, and so well behaved, but Blanche wasn't sure what to do really either.  He told me that it was a Chihuahua mixed with something, but he didn't know what, and that he was up there in age (His face was white!  You learn something new every day!).  We tried to give him some water and a treat from a bag that he carries around in his car, but he wasn't thirsty or hungry. Then we put him on the leash that my friend had brought and walked him around the block, hoping he'd maybe lead us to where he lived.  No such luck!

I was starting to think into the future...let's bring him inside and see how Dylan and Diego (my kitties) react to him, I suggested.  So we did, and he didn't even seem to notice either of them, though they were a little skittish of him.  They did stay around, though, which was a good sign.  I had a feeling that this little guy would be at least spending the night, but still, we had to do something....

I called my friend Kim, from work.  She is the biggest animal lover I know, and I know she's rescued plenty of our furry little friends.  Sure enough, she gave me several tips, including calling the local animal shelters, veterinarians (in the morning, of course!), putting up signs with pictures, etc., etc., etc.  We opted for driving around the neighborhood looking for people who might be looking for a dog.  

So Blanche, myself and the pooch headed out, though I wasn't too confident in our chances, but after one near-miss, we hit pay-dirt.  As Blanche slowly drove down one of the streets near my house(with his flashers on), another slow moving car headed our way slowed doen as we approached.  Their faces looked hopeful.

You looking for a dog?, Blanche said out the window. As he said it, I lifted the pooch and handed it towards Blanche who showed him to the man.  

Marley! He cried out in relief.

Yup, so Marley was his name, and apparently he IS a good dog, except for today, when scared of the pre-Fourth of July fireworks, bolted the yard through an open gate.  Turns out he ran up and over a couple of blocks to my house, where he spent a total of two hours away from his family. Oh, and Marley is ten years old. 

They seemed like a nice family and they were so grateful.  The man told his wife to call their little daughter out of the house and she greeted us with the same shout he gave when he first saw Marley.  They invited us to their holiday party tomorrow, which we respectfully declined before getting back into Blanchie's car to head home.  I was glad it ended up good for the pooch, but I was also a little...just a wee bit...sad, too!  He was soooo cute!

  

We look cute together, don't we, lol

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