Saying Godbye

Ladybug 2011

Mohawk 2011

They came into this world 10 days apart, from different breeders. They met on the trip to California. They were 8 weeks old.

They never parted after that.

And tonight they left this world together.

Mohawk is no longer in pain from a back and hips that could not bend anymore.

Ladybug no longer has to fight to raise her head or to try to lick my face.

I give thanks for my daughter who met us at the vets.

I give thanks to the entire staff at Arroyo Grande Veterinary Clinic who stayed after closing until we could get there. They were kind, gentle and loving.

We miss these two more than you know. But we are relieved that the pain is over for both of them.

Maybe later I can tell the story.

Tonight I cry and hug Zelda.

Stupid Dogs

OK. She sat in my lap or next to me all evening.

Wrapped in a soft, red blanket.

I gingerly carried her outside and encouraged her to walk and do her business.

She slept on my pillow when we went to bed.

I woke up every two hours or so to make sure she was still breathing.

She was.

Then at 6 ($%^%$^%$%^*&^%)AM......

On a day that I DON"T have to be at work at the crack of dawn......

She wakes me up by LICKING MY FACE!!!!!

I was ecstatic!

And exhausted......

So the whole doggie family gets up. I pull on some warm clothes (it is cold out there!) and we all troop to the pee yard. SHE RUNS.

Runs, I tell you.

Yesterday she couldn't walk and today she RUNS???

What is up with that?????? 

I give food and she eats about half of it. Goes back outside and does her business.

Now she is sleeping. At my feet. Snoring.

Stupid Dogs...........

Ladybug

I don't know if I have ever told the story of Ladybug. If I have then tonight is a very good time to tell it again.

It was in early October. I remember because she was 8 weeks old and she was born on August 10, 1996. The breeder that we had contacted to get Mohawk brought an extra puppy with her.

They came from Fallon, Utah. The breeder came with at least 8 puppies. Mohawk was one. Six others were from her kennel. But one, one little, itty-bitty, runt of the litter, dressed in black and white (with little tan eyebrows) came from a kennel that belonged to a friend of hers.

They had come through a terrible wind storm in Nevada. The breeder couldn't stop and let the puppies out so, when they arrived at our place, they ALL needed a bath and a place to run around. Our backyard was perfect.

Mohawk wasn't much of a player. He seemed to be trying to figure things out. But the littlest one, the little, itty-bitty runt was running everywhere and ordering (or trying to order) the other pups about.

My camera was suppose to be taking film of Mohawk. It kept drifting (all by itself) to that energetic ball of fur.

We transacted our business about Mohawk and the breeder was off to her brother's home in Palmdale.

That night Mel asked me if we could spare another $250.00. The next morning I drove to Palmdale and Ladybug became part of our life. She fit perfectly in the pocket of Mel's robe and he would carry her around with her head peeking out.

She took over our hearts and she and Mohawk were NEVER apart.

We had them trained (actually, we got trained) at the American School of Dog Obedience in Bakersfield. And wherever we took them they were well-behaved and happy.

Both of them loved to chase a tennis ball. So we took them to the local school grounds where they had a fenced in baseball field. We would turn them loose and watch them run. Mohawk was much faster in the long run but Ladybug was a great sprinter. And heaven help us if birds landed. (That is why we went for the fenced area) Neither one would listen if there was a bird to chase.

But tonight I sit by her little bed where she sleeps. She refused food this morning. She almost falls if she tries to walk. She did drink some water and I got some food down her tonight.

But Mel and I both know that it is a matter of time now.

She is peaceful. She is not in any apparent pain. She just sleeps and breathes lightly. Her body, tiny but tough, is finally giving out. Ever so slowly.

Mohawk stands by her and whines. That is one reason that I am sure that she is leaving us.

It will be a long night.

But I also must say.....she has fooled us before.

I will keep vigil and keep you posted.

Birdman of Santa Margarita

It was a known fact in Bakersfield that my spouse, Melvin, was an artist in the courtroom. He could pick a jury with incredible insight and present a case that insulted no one. He won alot.

It was a known fact that when we were in Las Vegas, the same spouse (that doesn't sound right...but you know what I mean..) could cajole a slot machine into spewing its guts just like a cop on cross examination. We almost always came home even.

What no one knew (and we thought it was just a fluke) was that birds LIKED him. We saw this for the first time in Bakersfield. He found a baby bird in our backyard that had fallen from the nest. Momma was going nuts. Mel walked up and picked up the baby. We put it on our balcony with water and in a nest in a hubcap. It drank some water and chirped. We left and, from a distance, watched Momma come in and teach the baby to fly.

The following year, at about the same time, a bird of the same species, flew into our garage. Mel was sitting at his work bench and the bird flew right up to him, stayed a few minutes and then flew out. We had lots of baby birds in the backyard trees that year.

So we are suspicious of Mel's bird attraction.

There were at least 3 other incidents where birds would come up to him but none of them were like today.

Mel is sitting on the porch (like he does)

Only he is on his laptop playing poker. And a little finch flies up and jumps up on his finger. It stays there for a few seconds and flies away. Mel didn't flinch and neither did the finch.

When I get home, Mel discovers a little baby finch that has apparently hit the window. The bird is sitting on the porch railing and does not fly away or even move when Mel approached. The bird let Mel pick it up.

He puts the bird in one of our planter oak barrels, gives it some water and some bird seed and backs off. The bird stays curled up against the side of the barrel for awhile then begins to eat and drink. Mel is sitting on the porch about 15 yards away.

The bird, after a little while, begins to fly in short hops. And when he is flying well, the bird flies over to the porch and lands in Mel's LAP! Then it stays in Mel's hand and let's me take this picture from less than a foot away!

Just hangin' out with the birds.

Yup, Birdman of Santa Margarita!

Buckaroo Time

I will admit that I haven't been writing much on this blog of late.

I have an EXCUSE. A Real one

I got an iphone. I finally turned in my Droid for an iphone. I still feel like a traitor.

BUT---we had to integrate everything at the office and in order to use the ipad (that I won!!!!!) to its fullest extent it was just easier to cave in and go Jobs over Gates.

And "What", do you say "Does that have to do with your lazzzzy backside not writing on your blog??"

Everything.

I couldn't figure out how to get the pictures from there to here. The camera wouldn't let me go to my usual upload.

But being a smart, articulate, resourceful woman, I did what any woman in my position would have done. I admitted my faults to my daughter and she showed me how to do it.

So NOW I can tell you about the deer.

Well, to be exact, I will tell you more about the deer.

Every evening, just before sunset they come into the front yard.

The does and fawns come first.

And then the bucks.

That is the 4 pointer. There is a six pointer but he is a bit more skittish and then there is one that is just breaking his horns.

They hang around eating the plums that have fallen and, since it is so dry, the grass. They ignore the juniper but they like the new salvia plants. Please note that the leaf line on all the trees is about deer head height!

They circle the house...going to the oak arroyo on the south to eat the acorns, then across the back to the lilac trees on the neighbor's land.

Their last stop is their nesting area to the north west of us. I pass them every morning on my way out. And if I get lucky they are there when I get home at night.

I often stop and roll down the window and stare at them. They stare back. They somehow know they are safe here and that Mel and I won't harm them.

The peace and beauty that these gentle creatures bring to us, here on our mountain, is indescribable. It is worth the drive over a mile of dirt road to come to this every night.

I think I love this place.

Yeah, I do.

Yesterday Melodie and I went for lunch at a deli on High St. It is called the High Street Deli. Catchy....

Dan used to go there whenever he was in San Luis. I never went with him.

Until yesterday. His presence was palpable. I could see him at one of the cramped barrel tables, perched on a stool eating potato chips and waiting for his sandwich. I could hear him laughing with the girl at the cash register.

I have had a lot of those days lately.

I want him to come back and somewhere in me I don't understand why he can't do that.

I feel like a child.

Then today one of the court interpreters reminded me of something. Every morning when you open your eyes be thankful because some people can't see. When you smell your coffee be thankful for some can't smell. And when you feel, be especially grateful for so many can't.

I am trying very, very hard to be thankful.

Maybe it is time for a bit of a cry.