Sunday, December 2, 2012


Dogs are therapy.
This one is a little wrecking ball o' love,
I don't know what I'd do without him.

It's been a rough few weeks. Two people that I care about lost their baby dogs. I think we've all been through it but it doesn't matter,

It hurts like hell.

They aren't pets. They are little mini-people with fur that might not have the power of speech but their wants, needs and feelings are still very clear. They have their own personalities and quirks. The make us laugh and their love is unconditional. When ever we have a bad day they are there to make it all better.

They feel our love, our joy and our pain.

It feels so good to feel that kind of joy. Putting my arms around those little angels necks and and feeling their behinds start to wiggle with joy and puppy kisses galore. It makes no difference to me where that tongue has that I stop to think about it.....well, as long as the licks are on my face!! They also don't know how to measure time. I don't care if I've gone out to the garage, when I come back in the door I'm greeted like I've been gone hours. When I'm gone hours the yips and cries of hello make all the cares of the day melt away.

All they want is to be with their pack.

They feel the abandonment when they're in the shelter. I'm a rescuer. I walk down the aisles in tears wishing I could take them all home. But I can't. Still, I know I will choose one. I usually want the one looking dejected in the corner. He lifts his head warily, not wanting to believe that I could be "the one." Then, as I stop, the tail starts to thump and then a little more, and then, he's by the cage licking my fingers.

That's the one,

When I've been in so much pain my high energy, off the wall my baby dog lies quietly by my side. He looks up at me as if to say that he feels my pain. When I try to get up he stays by my side as I go to the refrigerator for something to drink and then jumps right back in bed next to me.

Any dog can be a therapy dog.
This is Buster.

I feel better knowing he's there. It brings a smile to my face when he jumps up on the bed with his favorite toy and puts it right down by my head. He wants to go outside but won't move until I do. This dog just makes me laugh and, for me, that is therapy. It helps with the pain...not the physical aspect of the pain, but it's more manageable and easier to bear. He looks at me and he understands. 

I know that the loss of an angel leaves a huge hole in your heart. I know they would want you not to grieve and go back to the shelter and rescue another baby so they can find the comfort of a loving home.

"It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them. Every new dog that comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart. If I live long enough all components of my heart will become dog and then I will be as generous and loving as they are."

In order to really enjoy a dog, it isn't enough to make him semi-human, it is, on our part, becoming part dog.

I can't imagine Buster Boo in a service dog hoodie.

I don't think a service dog has the attention span of a gnat.

Squirt and H would have called PETA and had them on speed dial.

Buster wouldn't know the number.....

In loving Memory of that sweet little Max.



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