Long Hollow

Happy 15th Birthday, Belle!

 

Belle turned 15 in January. So of course we threw her a party with a cake that she and her two nieces shared. 

We've never had a dog this long. And as of right now, judging by how she'll still chase after the neighbor's truck if we let go of her collar too soon, and how she loves to chase her niece Sadie, there is no telling how much longer we'll have her. 

And that's okay with me, of course. All of our other dogs were "daddy dogs" - they loved me, but Tom came first in their eyes. Belle is the first one who has been a "momma dog." She loves Tom, but is truly my shadow. (Well, unless her older brother or sister are here.) She's my coach, my assistant, my guard dog. My best friend. 

We've been through a lot together in 15 years. And with few exceptions, we always take a morning walk, no matter what the weather. 

 

Ever since Max passed away, she has been an inside dog. Sure, we have hair everywhere, but having her nearby brings me such joy. It makes me regret that the other dogs weren't inside dogs, until I remember how much they loved being outside. And how allergic I was to them when they did come inside during cold weather. For some reason, Belle hasn't had the same effect on me. 

 

We have a basket full of pills for her and special food, and she occasionally has an accident in the house. Her paws have turned white, with splashes also on her eyebrows and muzzle. Her hearing and eyesight are fading. But her sense of smell is still amazing. If I ask her where Daddy is, she is off on his trail. 

I know my days with her will end sooner than I am ready.

Her sense of duty is strong. She keeps an eye out the front window (when she isn't napping) and barks at the slightest movement, and every evening we do a "perimeter check", circling around the house on the porch/deck before calling it a night. 

She learned from the best, though... her big brother, Max. 

She loved him so much - and the feeling was mutual. She was his puppy, after all. He was so despondent after Charly died, and so happy to have a little sister. 

It was fun going back in time tonight to those first days with her via my old posts, especially  "Meet the Belle of Long Hollow", "Belle, Day 4", and "Getting to Know You". So many photos I'd forgotten about, like this one of Max, Belle, and our guinea Frankie going on a walk together. 

They grow up... and old... too fast, don't they? 

 

 

Happy birthday, Belle! (and other sweet!s)

 

 

Eight years ago, while we were mourning the loss of our sweet Charly, a litter of puppies was born in east Texas.  Whether the mom was a pure-bred who had a wild fling with a stray, or she was a mixed breed stray herself, we'll never know. 

We do know that a few weeks later a little black and brown bundle of cuteness wandered up to a home near Tyler, Texas. Unfortunately, the home belonged to a single mom living on a teacher's salary who could barely afford the horses and handful of stray dogs and cats she already owned.

Fortunately, she was determined to find a home for the cute puppy. Otherwise she would have to send it to a shelter... and there were no 'no-kill' shelters in Tyler, Texas. 

Her son posted its photo on a Facebook page for University of Texas students. Our daughter spotted it and sent it to me. It wasn't the first photo she had sent me, but by then, our resolve against getting another dog had been cracked by our German Shepherd/Great Dane Max's obvious despondency over Charly's absence.

He was so lonely! He just dragged his feet on our morning walks, ignoring Frankie the guinea fowl, and spent most of his time sleeping.

Seeing him like that just broke my heart!

We gave in, deciding Max needed a puppy, and after several phone calls with the puppy's foster mother, Tom and I arranged to meet her at a Dairy Queen in a little town outside of Waco. 

She called the puppy 'Thibodeaux'.

Um, no. To me, that just wasn't a fit. So as we drove down the highway, I ran name after name through my mind, trying to find just the right one.

At the Bell County line, it came to me  - "Belle". My Belle of Long Hollow.

Max gave his full approval, to the name and the puppy.

 

 

We'll be celebrating Belle's birthday on Sunday, probably with an extra walk and maybe some popcorn. She loves popcorn.

Somehow eight years have passed, as well as Max and Frankie. Once again, we've decided we won't get another dog.

I think Belle's okay with that; she's an inside dog now and very content. Besides, I don't think our allergies or our iRobot could handle a second dog in the house!

But "never say never", right? I know each one of our critters has been a gift from God, delivered just when we needed it.  Who knows who we'll meet up the road?

 

 

"Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really."

~Agnes Sligh Turnbull

 

And now for a few more sweet!s I've collected since Christmas...

A motivating all-day leadership mastermind in Houston for all of the Keller Williams Realty Agent Leadership Councils in our region

Spotting a "sun-heart" in my sunlight photo taken on the trip home from Houston afterward (this is cropped quite a bit so you can see it) 

 

(Yes, I know it also looks a bit like a lima bean)

 

All of the "Friend-versary" videos popping up on Facebook 

Allergy medicines that keep my cedar fever under control

Belle snuggling in her puppy beds all over the house

 

 

Walks with Belle on gorgeous, frosty, golden mornings, and the view of mist rising from Lake Travis 

Getting a contract on one of my listings in 9 days

 

Seeing the latest Star Wars movie, "The Last Jedi", with my son... flashing back to seeing the very first one 40+ years ago ... feeling I had come full circle.

Spending a day helping a friend celebrate her birthday in one of her favorite places... Magnolia Market in Waco ... and seeing another longtime friend for the first time in years. 

 

A friend's new home almost complete on the lot I helped her buy a year ago

Audible, so I can "read" books in my car when I have no time at home

My oldest decorating his Christmas tree with his childhood ornaments that used to hang on mine

 

My photo book of my Italy trip delivered to my doorstep

Friends recommending me, bringing me new buyer and seller clients

Warm temperatures returning after three days below freezing

A warm bowl of Hoppin' John on a cold New Year's Day

 

Spotting a huge owl on my morning walk and hearing it whistle

A successful surgery for someone I love (but please keep them in your prayers as they recover) 

And of course, plenty of heart rocks... 

 

(Can you think of any sweet!s in your own life? Share them in the comments!)

 We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.

~Thornton Wilder

 

Memories, and other sweet!s

 

"...remember someone said that God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December...."

~J.M. Barrie, "Courage" (The Rectorial Address Delivered at St. Andrews University, 1922 May 3rd)

 

There are some days when the not-so-sweet! seems to overshadow the sweet! Yesterday was one of those days.

First, I heard of the passing of a high school classmate from a form of brain cancer. I didn't know her well in high school, but at our last reunion I had the chance to visit with her. She was an opera singer and graciously agreed to sing for a few of us at an after-reunion gathering.

Her voice was simply amazing; I can't help but think God called her home to sing with his angels. 

I don't count her death as a sweet!, of course, but the chance to finally connect with her decades beyond high school, her impromptu performance, and the magic of her voice, will remain sweet memories.

Rest in peace, Melinda, and let your voice join those of the angels...

 

 

Later in the day, I got word that one of my favorite human-beings had also passed away unexpectedly. Bill was my cousin's husband, but Sheryl is one of the oldest cousins and I am the youngest, so he had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. His daughters are just a few years younger than I am. 

He was a hardworking, gentle giant, devoted to family and friends, especially his wife, daughters, and their families, who are truly heartbroken now, especially since Sheryl's father recently passed away, as well. 

From all accounts Bill was a reluctant Texan, always hoping to return to his beloved Colorado, but providing for his family was top priority.

I'm glad he stayed put in Texas, so that he was a frequent part of my life, but I like to think God made sure Bill's heaven looks a lot like the Rocky Mountains, like in this old photo I found in my grandmother's slides of him, Sheryl, and their firstborn. 

May you rest in peace, Bill...

 

 

An easy thing, O power divine, to thank Thee for these gifts of Thine,

For summer's sunshine, winter's snow, for hearts that kindle, thoughts that glow;

But when shall I attain to this - to thank Thee for the things I miss?

~ Thomas Wentworth Higginson

 

In every day there are going to be dark clouds that distract you from the sweet!s left in your path as a gift. Don't forget to keep your eyes open for them... and remember to say thank you!

Here are some I jotted in my journal or captured in a photo since my last post...

Hummingbirds buzzing close and hovering; feeling rested even though you woke up at 3 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep; reconnecting with old friends on Facebook

Gorgeous, cooler summer days, after weeks of rain and/or double digit temperatures; news that someone dear to you is improved enough to move from ICU into a regular room, and that there's still hope his cancer can be beaten; Facebook reminding you of sweet mornings spent on your back deck with three of your favorite guys, who you truly miss ...

 

 

A "catch-up" email from a friend; a call from a potential buyer for one of your listings; torrential rain holding off until after your morning walk with your puppy.

A long visit with a friend after church; yummy breakfast burritos sold by the Knights of Columbus to raise money for the victims of the floods in Louisiana; a referral from a friend; rain holding off while you get to and from the grocery store; finally getting to play and snuggle with your foster-grandpuppies before they are adopted; babies who will soon be baptized being introduced to the parish

 

 

Making progress on sorting through the boxes from your parents' home that are piled in the middle of your living room, without getting emotionally overwhelmed; a referral for an out-of-town buyer from an agent/friend; dinner with friends at Stubbs Barbecue; enjoying Finite Fidelity's performance at Stubbs afterward, featuring your friend's son on the drums

 

 

 

Following through on promises; a good check-up at the dentist; memories of experiencing Hurricane Alicia in League City with your husband shortly after celebrating your first anniversary, and being grateful you suffered very little damage; a blossom finally appearing on one of your crape myrtles, thanks to all of the rain

 

 

Your friends home safe from their adventure to Rio de Janeiro to watch the Olympics; finally being able to walk your puppy after three solid days of rain; great customer service at ATT when your iPhone decides to shatter on its millionth drop; getting a listing lead from another customer while you're there

 

 

Making plans for your annual girls' weekend at the coast; your church holding a clothing drive for the Louisiana flood victims; viewing several gorgeous homes with a buyer-client, including one that made you feel you had somehow stepped through the door into Italy

 

 

Whataburger, for the first time in months; watching "Community" with your son from the beginning; finding a card your best friend sent to your parents when your grandmother passed away twenty years ago; stepping out of a meeting just in time to see this sunset...

 

 

And last but not least, the things your grandmother kept in her purse...

 

 

I hope you are always able to spot the sweet!s in your path, and that your good memories never fade...

Reflections on Gratitude, and "Lasts" (and Happy Thanksgiving to you!)

 

There's a small pond tucked into the bottom of a hill down the road from our house. It can be counted on to hold water when the others have all dried up, deep enough that our Max puppy could really swim in it sometimes, not just wade. He loved it.  

 

One morning on our walk a few weeks before he left us, Max started up the trail that leads to the pond. I was nervous, because the sides of the pond are so steep and deep, and his legs were so weak, I knew if he went in, he'd never make it out by himself. 

But after just a few steps in the direction of the pond, he stopped and looked back at me, as if he was thinking the same thing. 

"Let's just go back to our pond, Max," I told him. "You can swim there."

He must have agreed, because he immediately turned around and headed back down the road to our house.

I visited that little pond yesterday morning for the first time since Max's last swim. I thought about him and all of the mornings Belle and I stood on the trail above the pond and waited for him while he soaked and swam.

I wondered if the last time he swam there, he knew it might be his last. (I know I didn't. He kept surprising me.)

Whether he realized it or not, I bet he cherished every minute of it, and gave thanks in whatever way dogs do that it was there. 

We rarely know when we're experiencing the "last" of something ... the last conversation or hug or kiss. The last walk with a beloved old puppy dog. Or the last Thanksgiving with a loved one.

All too often, we take it for granted there will be a "next time".  We're human, after all, and life moves fast. 

Last year we traveled to Houston to celebrate Thanksgiving a day late with my mom.  I knew it would be the last time we celebrated in my childhood home, and that knowledge weighed on me every minute.

It was also the first Thanksgiving without Daddy. I was grateful for the chance to be there for Mama, but it was definitely a bittersweet celebration. In fact, I completely forgot about it until my sister reminded me yesterday. 

I'd rather remember all the Thanksgivings there that came before it.

 

 

 

Today I'll be celebrating with my son, my daughter-in-law, and her extended family, just as we did last year. It might be a new tradition. It might not.

 

But it will be the "last" in some way, that's guaranteed, although I don't want to think about it like that. I just want to slow down and savor, to imprint the people I'm with and the moments of the day into my memory, and give thanks for them and all of the many blessings in my life...

...which includes you. I'm so grateful for you, and wish you a blessed Thanksgiving!

 

 

 

Sweets and Sorrows

 

 

Each morning since my old puppy Max passed away, Belle and I have ended our walk in the little cemetery where he, Charly, Chewy, Ruthie, and Frankie are all buried. It may seem like a bittersweet way to start the day, but I believe it has helped me, and maybe Belle, transition to life without him.

The cross above is actually the one marking Charly's grave. I need to find another one like it for Max.

I started the week determined to keep track of my sweet!s again. Although by Tuesday, I knew my heart was soon going to break, I was determined to keep making note of at least one sweet a day.

On the darkest days, it helps to remember the sun is still shining somewhere, right?

 

 

Monday - an executed contract on one of your listings and finding a home for a family relocating from Illinois 

Tuesday - your husband's plumbing and construction skills

Wednesday - your daughter calling you as she's driving to school to tell you to go see the blood moon; your friends praying for your sweet old puppy

Thursday - being able to spend your puppy's last hours beside him, petting him and telling him you love him; a vet who will travel to your home so your puppy can transition in his own home, surrounded by his family

Friday - seeing old friends while passing out flyers to your church's Oktoberfest; crossing heavy items off of your to-do list

Saturday - sleeping late to the sound of rain outside your window; finally cleaning up piles of paperwork in your office

Sunday - hearing rain outside your window two mornings in a row; submitting an offer for a client; seeing a friend's grandbaby for the first time; Blue Bell's Spiced Pumpkin Pecan ice cream; your husband's safe arrival at his mom's for a visit

 

 

I hope no matter what troubles or heartbreak you're experiencing, you're able to see the rays of sweet light shining in your darkness.

Good boy, Max.

 

"Dogs’ lives are too short. Their only fault, really."

~ Agnes Sligh Turnbull

 

 

He wandered up to our house from the woods almost 11 years ago, a not-so-small puppy with crooked ears and a face so black you could barely see his eyes. We never found out where he came from, but within days, we didn't care. We knew he belonged with us.

 

His timing was just right; he brought Charly-dog back to life after the death of his brother, Chewy, and distracted me as my eldest prepared to head off to college.

 

 

Max was an angel, straight from heaven. I truly believe that.

 

 

But I guess angels can't live forever on earth, at least not when they take on mortal bodies. Max's finally wore out, and his beautiful spirit took flight yesterday as we whispered See-you-later and Thank-you and I-love-you-Max.

I spent the last few hours of his life beside him in the laundry room, working on my laptop, reading, and at times just sitting silently on the floor, watching him, petting him, remembering...

He would have tried to hang on, no telling how long - his devotion was so strong. But any doubts about our decision were squelched with one glance at him. He was nothing but fur and bones. He wouldn't eat and could no longer stand, much less walk.

He went downhill fast and I knew there wouldn't be another rally.

I'm grateful to our wonderful veterinarian and her assistant who braved the rough road to our house to ease my sweet Max into the next world, where I'm certain Charly welcomed him and he's no longer limited by that old, lame, beloved body, but able to run and pounce and play like he used to. 

 

 

When my legs grew too weak to carry me, And my tired eyes could no longer see,

When it pained me to struggle for each new breath,

When my heart beat weaker, and I drew closer to death,

You did me the kindness of letting me go.

You didn't make me hang on when I was suffering so.

I promise I don't think that you loved me any less,

And I love you all the more for your selflessness.

You freed my spirit from its body so wracked with pain,

And let me run the fields of Heaven, where I'm sure we'll meet again.

 

 

 

…Grieve not,

 

   nor speak of me with tears,

 

but laugh and talk of me

 

   as if I were beside you…

 

I loved you so –

 

   ‘twas Heaven here with you.

 

 

 

                                        Isla Paschal Richardson

 

 

 

 

"You think dogs will not be in heaven?

I tell you, they will be there long before any of us."

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

 

 

 

 

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

 

~Anonymous