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My Heart Will Go On

When you lose someone you love, it is such a deep pain that it leaves an indelible mark on your heart and soul. You do the best you can to accept the fact that this person is gone and that you really have to pick up and carry on. As hard as it is to do, it must be done, I should know. But, when you lose a pet that you are particularly fond of, the pain is a little more personal. This too I am fully aware of.

She waited for me every day, sat with me while I watched television, lounged with me during the evenings and slept in my bed at night. I believe she saw me as her partner, her protector, her peer and her Daddy. For fourteen years the life she lived was one of comfort and I was happy to provide such comfort. I did right by her and she by me. No regrets right? No more pets either! My heart can't take it.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I love my dog and I love the other cats that live in my home. Robbie the Recluse, Paige the Broken Doll, Simon the Pretty Boy Kitty Boy, Chloe the Destroyer and Bette Davis, the most dramatic cat actress in the world. Sounds like quite a bunch, eh? Each comes with their own personalities and funny quirks, but I swear I will never get attached to any of them in that way. Still, it is Miss Bette Davis that has insinuated herself into my life and into my heart.

I brought her home from the Vet's when she was a kitten. It seems someone had changed their mind about adopting her. Her eyes were the biggest part of her hence the name Bette Davis, after the pop eyed actress. At that time this little kitten was a fireball that livened up the older cats. Not India!. She hated everyone! But, and there's always a but, she tolerated Bette. That statement is saying a lot. At our house, India rules. She ruled with an iron fist not unlike Margaret Thatcher ran the British Isles, and believe me, no one dared to get in her way. In return she never mingled with the others, keeping much to herself, making the most of sunbeams, snoozing between two pillows in the bedroom, or surveying the neighborhood from any upstairs window of her choosing. When she ate her lunch no one dared move in and take some, hence the consequences.

Bette admired her from afar. I think she too would loved to have snuggled in between the pillows but she could only do it when the Queen was out of the room. I think she would have loved to converse with India on many world topics but this all had to be done from afar. So be it. Still, when India passed away it left an open and empty spot in my life.

Now, quietly in the late evenings Bette softly makes her way into our bedroom, past the dog, walks over my wife and finds a comfortable spot on the blanket near my chest or shoulder. At four in the morning when the moonbeams shine brightly on the snow, I am able to glance over and see the tender soul who reaches out to me. There in the quiet of the moment, my heart fills to the top with love for this little vixen who too will someday leave me. Still, I think if all I have to do to make her life complete is to offer a shoulder, then I feel it's my duty. My heart will give, my heart will hurt, my heart will heal and hopefully my heart will go on and on until one day when I cross over and find myself at a place called rainbow bridge where my heart will come full circle. Then I will know that my life was truly worthwhile.

How much is that Doggie in the Window?

In an effort to make my dog's life as comfortable as possible I spoke to my wife about putting in a window seat so that the little dog, a sh'tzu, could have something to keep her occupied while we were at work.. She loved looking out the window from the end of the chesterfield, surveying her neighborhood. She would do this for hours quite often falling asleep.

Building a window seat is no problem for my wife as she is very handy around the house. More so than I am. But it would also mean a disturbance to our living quarters. My wife and I and our dog are not the only ones who live in our house. We share our home with five indoor house-cats. Their ages range from twelve months to twelve years. Each comes with their own funny quirks and some even come with some not so funny quirks. That folks, is another story. Still, my wife and I came up with a suitable solution by re-building a coffee table with a secure position beneath the window, complete with a soft pillow some five times the dog's size. What a life!

My dog Rozie is very special to the two of us. She is our first and probably our only dog. She has a great playful personality and loves to show it off. She knows her place in our home and she keeps my wife and I in line. It was my wife who insisted on getting a dog, I never wanted one. Too much work I thought to myself and besides, we both work. Still, we got one. My diligent wife crate trained the dog at first and made sure all her needs were taken care of, no matter what time of day or night. I couldn't help myself, I thought she was pretty cute. What I didn't know was that the dog had eyes for me. Although Mother was the one who took care of her, it was my arrival each day that the young dog anticipated. Anticipated with such warmth and love, I couldn't help but return the feelings. Soon, I was hooked. This was now, and will always be, my baby girl.

There's a price to pay for love. Every morning at six my little alarm clock wakes me up. "Come on Daddy! It's time to run up the road." While Daddy doesn't always feel like it, I had to realize that these things just have to be done. To tell the truth, if you knew what a selfish person I am, no one would ever think I would take the time 365 mornings a year to take care of business with that little dog. But, I have a responsibility to face. So, onward and upward we go. We've braved the cold, the snow, winds and rain and that was just yesterday. On the freezing days Rozie doesn't want to step outside let alone the trek up the road, so we tried to do our business in the back yard. It doesn't work! So, like a big monster I force her to face the elements, telling myself that she is an animal after all, and that the two of us can make it. Then come the dramatics. If her paw is cold or frozen she lifts it in an effort to shield it from the weather and then she whimpers softly which pulls on my heart strings. "Okay then " I think to myself. "Today you can poop in the house."

"Okay, wait a minute, no that's not okay. She's a dog and I am a man. I am the one who should be whimpering. She's a dog, for heaven's sake, they poop out side, that's what dogs do!" "Let's get this over with and I'll take you back home and you can lie in the warmth of a sunbeam shining in our living room window, and relax on a window seat that Mother fashioned, and watch the whole world go by, while the two of us are out working so that we can provide you with such a lavish life. Cool? Also, for what it's worth, other dogs don't live like this" I might as well be talking to the wall.

I honestly wonder if she's worth all this. And then something happens. After an exhausting day of neighborhood watching, rounding up cats, greeting guests, sleeping in a sunbeam, eating a healthy supper and taking an evening walk, she cuddles up to her Daddy with sleepy eyes. Uh, oh, there's that face and that love I was talking about. My little girl, my baby dog. She needs me, she loves me, and just when I needed to be appreciated. So I had better get some rest. After all, tomorrow is another day.

So I ask, "How much is that Doggie in the window? Why, she's worth everything to me.

Love Daddy!