Suzy in the Tree

The past month has been difficult. 

It started the night the woodcarver finished carving Suzy's likeness in the old Ash Tree trunk in our backyard.  He came from Indiana just to carve an animal totum in the trunk of a tree that had died and been cut down two year's ago.  We'd talked about doing an owl, a bear and a cat.  At the last minute I thought it would  be  neat to do a likeness of Suzy with a red heart next to her symbolizing our  love.  Although he'd never carved a dog before, he managed to do an exact likeness of Suzy with the most beautiful heart next to her.


I'd found Dayle, the woodcarver, online back in May, and the only day he could come was July 24th as he was going to a carving contest up in Clare, MI.  He and his wife drove from Indiana and spent the night at my house the day before.  He started carving at 8AM and finished at 2 PM.  It was at the last minute that I thought of asking if he could carve Suzy in the tree.  He said he'd give it a shot and ended up carving her exact likeness next to a slighty crooked large red heart.  I love them both!


That night, Suzy started barking.  A distress bark.  I ran downstairs and she tried to get up but couldn't.  Her back legs were like Jello.  She tried and tried to stand up and finally did but was very wobbley.  I helped her outside, and she almost fell over.  That night marked the beginning of the end.  How ironic that it was on the same day that the woodcarver finished carving the trunk with Suzy front and center.


Then, for the following three weeks, I was chief nurse and hospice caregiver for Suzy.  I bought a saddle sling and lifted/aided her in and out of the house 4-5 times a day, took her for accupuncture, made her favorite foods, and much more.  It was exhausting but my efforts knew no limit or no end for my darling.  I would've done anything to keep her alive, and I did.  But, in the end, fate has her way and takes us all.  It's inevitable, so pet your pups, cuddle your kitties and tell everyone you love how you feel about them because time waits for no one.

Life Goes On - Or Does It?

Ten days since I put Suzy down.  And counting.  And crying.  And wishing she were here by my side, like for the past 14 years. But that's not to be.  Now, it's just me.


Rainy morn.  I think of the ground getting soaked where she's buried out back. Think of the blanket she's wrapped in getting all wet and of her gorgeous red fur getting drenched.  I visualize us together just ten short days ago, holding her, telling her I loved her more than  anything else, and bidding her farewell--forever.  And my heart bleeds, and my eyes drip, and my memories quiver in her absence.


I'm not the first person to lose a dog.  Yet it feels like my whole world has collapsed and is missing.  The sound of birds chirping isn't as melodic, the patter of the rain not as soothing, the taste of food less satisfying and the encounters with friends and family less meaningful.  Life is lost.  Living is hard.

Thoughts of Suzy dominate my mind, photos surround my every shelf, counter, window sill & desk. She is with me every waking moment.  I need her spirit, her gentle face, her soothing presence-- even in her absence. 


It's a feeling you can share with a friend, confide to a therapist or sense in your gut, yet an experience you can't run away from or try to downplay---ever.  Maybe for-ever. The best I can do is keep going on, living my life as best I can, knowing that Suzy's spirit will be a part of me all the way.  And that she wouldn't want me to suffer.  She would want me to move on & maybe even think of getting another pup some day.  She would want me to be happy.  And it is in this knowing that I take another sad step forward.  And another.  And another. . .

Two Old Girls - Suzy and Mom

Yesterday was Mom's 91st birthday.  I didn't think I'd be in a very celebratory mood, given Suzy's passing, 8 days ago, but went anyway, and it turned out okay.

Mom was happy to be with her 3 chicks.  My two older sisters and I sang "Happy Birthday" as our waiter served
Mom's cake, all aglow with candles and sparklers.


Mom seemed happy although, at her age, she often looks deep in thought, frightened, worried or all three at once! Maybe these emotions come with old age.  Who knows?


That's one thing about dogs. They don't seem to express worry.  Suzy was stoic right 'til the bitter end.  Like Mom, she couldn't see or hear, stand straight or still for very long and often fell.  Yet, Suzy maintained her dignity right 'til the end. 


She taught me so much about courage and confidence, honor and loyalty.   Suzy taught me that life is for living!  For fun and friendship, joy and laughter, trust and truth.  Even in the end, as she grew weaker and unable to eat or walk on her own, something inside that beautiful creature imparted to me the importance of going on.  Not just existing or writhing in pain (like now, at her loss) but of honoring our bond and going on in a way that is life-affirming.  For me and for others. 


That marvelous energy we shared shall go on.  To honor our union and to help others value, savor and appreciate close bonds with their own pets.  Life is for living, not dying; for appreciating not denying; for rejoicing not regretting.  Suzy taught me all this and more. 

Much, much more.

TIme Passes By, Love Remains

Today is the 8th day since I kissed my darling Suzy farewell for the last time.  And, today is my Mom's 91st birthday.

A time for grieving and a time for celebrating.  A time

for reassessing priorities and a time for expressing gratitude.

Seeing Suzy decline over the past month, and fighting hard to keep her alive but losing to time, in the end, taught me many lessons. 

1)  To show those you love the warmth, caring and affection, each and every day, that you feel in your heart.

2)  To appreciate every moment you spend with your dog, cat, pet or loved one.  Time is fleeting and you, or they, may not be here tomorrow.  (No one will be, eventually.)

3)  To look into their eyes, establish contact and maintain connections in good times and bad.


4)  To tell them you love them in word, thought and deed.


5)  To never put off for tomorrow what you can express, show or communicate in kindness, caring and sharing today.  (This goes for anyone not just pets or special people in your life.)


6)  To acknowledge how fortunate you are to have them in your life.


7)  To say a prayer of thanks every day.


8)  To know that your connection was mystical and magical and happened only once in a  lifetime.


9)  To cherish time spent together.


10)  To take comfort in keeping their memory alive forever.


In seeing my Mom age and grow frail, like I just witnessed in Suzy, I am viscerally remined of the passing of life.  When I was a child, I looked up to this tall, slender, physically active woman.  Now, I gaze down at her shrivled form and feel pangs of empathy for her failing
eyesight, diminished hearing and fragile frame. 


It was only two weeks ago that I watched Suzy stumble and fall, roll hard after taking one cautious step and be unable to stand on her own.  Although I lifted, assisted and carried her in and out of the house, several times a day,  took her for accupuncture, fed her special diets, made her favorite foods, stroked, massaged, held, cuddled and cried into her thick radiant
fur, "please don't leave me!" in the end, nothing could save her.


And today, as I sing "Happy Birthday" to my Mom and celebrate her 91st year, I'll both rejoice that we have these moments today and grieve for the notion that this chorus may be our last.  And it will be in knowing, feeling, and acknowledging this landmark birthday, and all it implies, that I will truly celebrate her life---and mine.

Farewell, My Best Friend

Does missing someone get easier over time? Not really. Time may erode sharp memories like fog settling over swamps at sunset, but it doesn't erase the heart connections or feelings of warmth and attachment we feel so deeply when we truly love somone.

Suzy was more than part of my world. She was my world. When I got her, in Nov. 1996, she was 13 months old and full of fire. She hopped, skipped, jumped and ran endlessly. Her energy infused me with more of my own. Her happy smile made me grin and giggle and take life less seriously. Have more fun, feel more joy.

That's what love does. Makes us feel more. More alive! Which causes us to love the object of our affections more which causes more bonding which boosts our self-confidence which causes us to love even deeper, and so the cycle of wonder and reciprocity goes on.  

Ahhh, if it could be like that with everyone we know.  But it's not. It happens once, twice, a handful of times in a lifetime if we're lucky. With people, pets, plants, homes, gardens,

anything that brings us joy and happiness for whatever reason.

Best shared. Best when reciprocal. The "I-Thou" of life is the sweetest melody we sing, the liveliest jig, the tenderest twig.  The essence of our humanity, the salvation of our souls.

That's how it was for me and Suzy. And so it goes. . .

Farewell, My Beautiful Girl

Monday morning.

The sun is shining but not in my heart. Totally despondent about losing Suzy. Think I still see her in the house. Lying in the foyer, by my side at every meal, waiting to lick the plate. Now, I just rinse it off and get a Kleenex.

For, we had a connection you only read about in fairytales. Of loyalty and trust, faith and grace. It doesn't matter who or what you love. If it's reciprocal and deep, it's meaningful and memorable for the rest of your life. It doesn't matter that she's a dog to me and I'm a person to her.


We had and will always have a connection that valued our mutual existance and demonstrated, at every moment, our deep and abiding love for one another. And that's one in a million. Once in a lifetime. IF you're very lucky.


Not seeing that darling face, knowing her watchful eye was ever upon me, feeling totally loved and protected, and now feeling her loss is almost more than I can bear.  I go on, because she would want me to. She would want me to go on, not be sad forever and move on. And because of my respect and love for Suzy, I will try.  Each day, I will try.

Farewell, I'll Always Miss You

It's Sunday after the Tuesday I buried Suzy and not getting any easier.  Stillness stalks the house like tombstones to eternity. Silence is felt not heard.

My eyes patrol every corner, space, hallway, foyer and familiar spot Suzy used to lie. She's gone, and so am I.


When someone significant leaves you, whether by death, divorce, accident or choice, a part of you leaves yourself, too. It's like the pysche telling the brain that one of its residents is gone. The one who smiled and said, "hello."  The one you waited for and missed most. For, like any good friend who brings out the best in us, we bring out the best in ourselves when we are truly in love.



Suzy's buried in the backyard, in a shaded corner behind two lovely lilac bushes. She's resting in peace. I'm wandering in woe. I miss her so! As my partner, confidante, and best friend for 14 years how could I not?


They say time heals all wounds. Not always. Time goes slowly when you don't have your best buddy around. And the heart has a time table all its own.  I think about Suzy constantly. See her in my dreams. My sun and moon, my rainbow and pot of gold. Suzy was, is and will always be my brightest shining star.