August 13, 2015

Thank you Zoolatry!

White Dog said, "I have so many random thoughts today, momma. Some of them are so sad; some make me smile; some make me just want to curl up in your arms." I understood what she was feeling because it mirrored my sentiments...and it turns out, the thoughts of all in the White Dog Army.

It made me cry last night at dinner to see the tiny pink bowl sitting on the counter...unfilled. And every member of the WDA visited the bathroom (where Storm ate so that we could monitor her food consumption) to lick out her bowl...only it was not there.

This is my favorite photo of Storm. It is from Zsofia's Birthday Party where each of the WDA shared in chicken feet. Stormer LOVED this treat. She snatched it up and ran to the bedroom where she tenderly chewed off each of the toes...and then traded the foot with Sachi with the understanding all she wanted was toes.

Steve reminded us what a great walker, Storm was...Not! She would excitedly rush to the front door and wait for her harness to be clipped on. Then Steve would lift Puff under one arm and Storm under the other and carry them down the front steps. Once on the driveway, the ladies would stroll to the end of the drive and sit at the curb. They would watch the stars and gaze at traffic a block away on Route 66; then they would turn around and come back inside.

It is not that our Gentle Girl did not enjoy the out of doors, Bella reminded us. She took to the dog door with such enthusiasm, loving the independence it gave her. Often we would find our littlest one just sitting on the deck soaking up sunshine. She and I had to have serious conversations at first about bedtime meaning INSIDE time because she would sneak out of the door and lie against the glass to star gaze after lights out. It did not take long for her to understand the call of her name and the lure of bedtime treats meant it was time to settle down on a bed.

Just a moment of joy...which gave us all joy...

Ferguson leaned against Steve's leg to provide comfort as they both did the bedtime headcount before closing the door to the bedroom wing...like they do every night...only the final tally was EIGHT not nine. It took both a minute not to move back into the living space to see where Storm was nestled.

Our routine was all wrong this morning. There were no sounds of Storm's tags jingling as she shifted to Taiko's old bed to get out of the way of the usual early riser antics of Zsofia and Sachi who love nothing more than an early morning wrestling match that extends from house to yard. Nor was the jingle there as she later paced to impatiently remind me that it WAS time to take her up into my arms so Steve could deliver her meds slurry and then get breakfasts underway.

Bella kindly offered herself to my arms to ease the ache.

Nilla and YoYoMa recalled that for 7lbs, Gentle Storm was a formidable gate keeper. When the little one was stretched across a doorway, you stepped over or around at your own risk...even if it looked like she was fast asleep, she was ready with a quick stream of barks and threats. Even Zsofia's face woos did not intimidate our feisty girl. When the Itty Bitty Baby crossed the line, Storm told her in no uncertain terms...Zso often ended up backing away or dropping to her belly.

This was the day Storm joined the White Dog Army less than six months ago. So much has happened in those days...Taiko is gone...Nilla and Ferguson have joined us...and now Storm, too, has left us.

We thought we were winning the war on her ill health, finally. Things looked like our girl who had led such a horrible life as a mill dog would at last get a chance to have the golden life she so deserved. A life filled with family, security, devoted pampering, and the good health to enjoy it all.

Gentle always, our Storm hated thunderstorms and sought the comfort of Steve's lap. During those loud moments, it was touching to see Steve on the floor holding Storm, with YoYoMa pressed against his side and Sachi under his arm. Fergis, like always, had Steve's back.

Our tiniest one DID learn to love treats, especially jerky. She tolerated the many baths her colitis necessitated, and actually grew to enjoy the repetitious comfort of being brushed in my lap.

White Dog still has no answer for her demand to know why. She thinks the Universe terribly unfair. It makes her a little fearful of how suddenly things change forever. We have held each other lots these past hours, the Little White Dog of My Heart and I. The entire WDA has drawn together and seems to need the reassurance that we will get through this pain...and that love does not disappear.

I threw my arms around YoYoMa tonight as he sat next to me and pondered, "I wonder who will come to join us next?" I looked at him. "Well, that is what life is about, isn't it? Loving someone so much that the only way to honor them properly is to continue sharing yourself?" I would have answered but I could not get my words past my tears.

I sent a thought to Storm..."Gentle One, you will be remembered and loved always. And we will keep our promise to share ourselves in your name."