my sweet boy.

I knew the day would come when I would have to write this post. There were even times when I would think about what I would say. But then I would put it out of my head because it was far to dreadful to imagine. But now I'm here. And I can't put it out of my head because now, now it's real. I'm not sure how to write the things I need to say. I can barely see the key board because of the tears. I have no idea how to adequately put into words how amazing, how precious, how loved, how goofy, how regal, how adored, how everything Preacher was and is to Tom and I. The thought of life without him is staggeringly painful. And yet we've made it now 11 days.

We lost Preacher early on Thursday September 22nd. It was fairly sudden. Tom and I were with him, just the two of us. He took the hard decision out of our hands...something I will be forever grateful for and in awe of. As difficult as it was, and it was excruciating, I was able to hold my baby and feel the last beat of his heart.

I've had a hard time making sense of everything. I want to be angry, but how can I be? I was able to share his life with him. We were given and incredible amount of time with him. I'm trying to make sense of everything. Trying to understand how he was just here... I'm trying to hold on to memories, think about the good things, but I'm not quite there yet. I'm having a hard time finding any relief in much of anything just yet. But I know that I need to find a way to be happy. I need to find a way to feel normal again, just like we did with every milestone we passed through Preacher's life with us.
This was from the day we brought Preacher home. I just crack up looking back at these photos! I forget how much pink he had on his nose when he was young. And over the years we marveled at how he never seemed to age...but looking back at these early pictures, his gray was so much darker. I guess you just never notice a white dog going white. To me he just looked more regal the older he got.

These were also from that first day. I wrote about that day in a recent post...when we first loaded into the car Seven wanted nothing to do with him. But by the end of the day I think she was more attached to him than we were.
It took us a little longer to bond with him. I remember the first day at home with him. He was laying on the couch and I sat down next to him and he growled at me. I hopped up and went to tell Tom. He sat down next to him and got growled at too. We were kind of freaking out. We didn't want to return him but we also didn't want an aggressive dog. After a little while we figured out that he just was not a snugly boy. There was no aggression behind the growl, it was just his way of saying "Hey, if you are gonna sit here then you might as well pet me, if not then scoot over and give me some space!" Tom figured out quickly that our new addition meant he was now relegated to the floor! Up until the day before we lost him I would use that as a way to gauge how he was feeling - if he growled at me it meant he was feeling good enough to give me attitude, no growling meant he didn't feel good.
I love this photo of he and Berklie. Berklie adored, absolutely adored Preacher. Back when Preacher could still jump up on our bed that is where he would stay when we were away from the house. And Berk would lay with him, groom him, rub back and forth under his chin. This 130 pound dog and this 12 pound cat were the best of friends. When Preacher could no longer jump on the bed Berklie followed him out to the living room to sit with him on the couch. Every night Tom, Preacher, and Berklie would share the entire couch while I was over in a chair with at least six other dogs!
Our first Christmas. I had no intention of being in this photo but Preacher had no intention of sitting with Santa alone!
The Mighty Texas Dog Walk aka the time when Preacher unloaded what looked like 20 cans of pumpkin before we ever made it out of the gate! Poor Tom was having to set give-away dog bowls around Preachers nervous diarrhea like safety cones.


I love this photo because it marked the return of his apatite after beginning chemo. It was a mighty exciting day around our house!
He was not a cuddler, so these moments were precious. It didn't matter if the blood flow to half my body stopped, I would not move until he was ready. We took every bit of snuggle time that we could get.

I think there are three reasons that I have made it through the last 11 days.
one. We have THE best family and friends in the entire world. They have all treated this with the gravity that it is for Tom and I. We've received flowers. People have cooked for us. Lots of sweet cards. Texts every single day to see how my day is. Listening to me cry and crying with me. Sitting with me. Donations to Blue Dog. And more.
two. As much as I have wanted to get in bed and not see the light of day for a good long time I know that that would be no way to honor my boy. I need to live my life with all the joy that he brought to me for 12 years three months and 16 days.
three. I have never believed in Heaven as much as I do now. I cannot believe that I will never see my baby again. I just can't.

There are so many of you who have read my blog over the years. I don't kid myself. I know that Preacher was why. And I thank you for every time you read about him and wished him well. For every comment you made. There was something about this dog. People lucky enough to meet him would want to come back to get their "Preacher fix" - you know who you are! People who knew him vicariously through Tom and I felt like they knew him and were rooting for him. He just had a way of drawing people to him. I have to pinch myself sometimes because I was lucky enough to be his mom.
Preacher,
I love you and I miss you more than I ever knew was possible. I still scoop your food out in the morning and walk into the kitchen to get your meds. I'm terrified of forgetting the way you smell, the way you feel, the way you sound... Someone I met while dealing with your cancer told me that one day I would be able to feel you by my side again. I am dreaming of that day. I got your name tattooed on my wrist the other day. It gives me something to rub when what I want is to pet you. I'm trying to figure out my feelings from one minute to the next but the bottom line is I miss you terribly. You made it too easy to love you. You filled up our lives so much that now there is a Preacher shaped hole in our world. Thank you for letting me be your mom. Thank you for fighting so hard and giving us these last two extra years. Thank you for making it easy on us in the end. Thank you for being the bravest boy in the whole world. I love you Big Man.
love,
your mom

crap.

I gotta tell you, it's real hard to get any work done around here when you could be spending your day cuddled up with this! I have not fallen this hard for a foster dog in a long time! I'm telling you, she is a doll. Shoot, she's snuggled up with the one dog in our house who really doesn't even like her! If she can win him over, she can win anyone over. I was snuggled up with her the other night and Tom leaned over my shoulder and said "you can not keep her." I know, I know! But man, there are gonna be some tears when this one goes.

Flea, Flea, Flea!!!

Yay! Tomorrow is another Austin Flea! I adore this show for a lot of reasons: one. It's home grown. It's all local artists at a local venue (not a chain) selling cool handmade or vintage goodies. two. It's a pretty chill show. It's not uptight, hoighty-toighty. It's very, well, Austin. and three. At this Flea most, if not all, of the vendors are donating some portion of their proceeds to help the victims of the Central Texas wildfires. I personally will be donating 25% of anything RED that you buy to the Red Cross. So come out an see us!

The Austin Flea @ The Highball on South Lamar from 11am-5pm. Be there or be square!

how many times can you fall in love?

You would think I would hit a point where I just cannot fall in love with another dog. I've loved a bunch of dogs. I guess I thought that at some point I would become desensitized to their charm. But no. With all of the fire stuff going on we've had to do a little foster dog shuffle within Blue Dog so Tom and I brought home Sophie. She came to Blue Dog a year or so ago as a puppy, was adopted out...but then somehow ended up at our city shelter. Don't get me started on that. We try so hard to make sure we place our charges in perfect homes, but sometimes people fool you. Selfishly I'm a little glad. I adore this dog. NO, we are not keeping her - but if you are a friend or family member of mine just know that I am beginning a heavy campaign to get her adopted within "the family"!
Seriously, how cute is this!?!?! My precious little brood. I love a lot of dogs.

my house

So, I don't know if you've heard much about the crazy wildfires that we are dealing with here in Texas or not, but it's pretty much all anyone is talking about around here. I think at this point we have lost more than 1,000 homes and one fire alone has burned more than 30,000 acres. It's just terrifying. One of our dear friends was evacuated from her house late Monday evening and it really made Tom and I think. We were both mentally going through the house trying to decide what to grab if we had to leave at a moments notice. We both went so far as to each pack a bag and make and evacuation plan for the animals...who would go in what car and where the heck we would go with 13 dogs and two cats in tow!

What really surprised me emotionally was my attachment to my house. I've always thought that if I could, financially, I would buy a cute little, old house in the heart of Austin. But thinking of losing this house has made me realize how much I love it and that I seriously doubt if I could leave it for something "better". It's funny how we get it in our heads that we want a certain thing. But life changes and sometimes we don't realize that what we want and need has changed too. When we bought this house nearly 13 years ago I never, ever would have thought it would be my forever home. But now, honestly, I can't imagine ever living anywhere else.

enjoying today.

What is that saying? Life is what is happening when you're not sleeping? That's not it, but it's something like that, right? I'm trying to keep that in mind - that idea of enjoying everything as it's happening. I do worry about the future. What if this or what if that. But I also may spend too much time looking to the past - wanting to make today look just like some perfect day from years ago. It's hard to just rest in the moment, to enjoy the way your life looks at this very spot in time. I think it's an art, accomplishing that. I'm workin' on it, but it's a process for sure. Anyone got any secrets?

its the little things

We were hanging out last night, watching a movie and I didn't even notice Tom sitting on the couch drawing this sweet little picture of Preacher. I adore it. I love my husband and my dog to bits.

My life in a photo

This photo so sums up my life - jewelry and dogs, not always in that order. There are so many days where it feels like that is ALL I do. I am surrounded by dogs and jewelry all day every day. It's not a bad thing...it's just that I sometimes want to pop my head out of my box to see what else is going on out there.

The only way to turn 40.

I have been dreading this birthday with a passion I cannot put into words. I honestly don't care two hoots about age usually but I think there's a whole biological clock thing...well, whatever. Suffice it to say I was not excited. So my sweet and wonderful mom decided a big blow out would be a great distraction - and even better, include all of my friends also turning the big 4.0. this year. So, here's the five us looking a mighty mature forty.

It was THE best birthday ever. EVER. I figure if I can ring in forty in a pink tutu then I don't need to worry about the whole age thing all that much.

Happy 13th Big Man!

Can you believe it?!?!? When I think about it I still find myself stopping, biting my lip, and looking up into my eyebrows to do the math. Yep, it's for sure 13! I know I sound like a broken record because every post about Preacher is "we are so lucky, it's amazing, he had cancer" an so on. But here's one thing I never said out loud - I truly thought that his 2009 birthday would be his last. But right this minute he is sprawled out on the couch. He must be dreaming about chasing something, 'cause his legs are kicking.

This past June was another important anniversary for us - it marked 12 years since we adopted Preacher from Great Dane Rescue of North Texas. I can't remember if I've shared this story or not... We found this Dane rescue group online. Tom was hesitant about getting a second dog (that makes me laugh out loud now!) but I talked him into it and, in fact, we drove up to Dallas on Tom's birthday. When we perused their website I was looking for the most pitiful dog they had - I guess I had a bit of the Florence Nightingale syndrome. There was a little Dane mix puppy that was deaf and blind in one eye and I wanted her BAD! But apparently her foster family decided to keep her so I had to settle for the plain ole deaf one - his name was Duffy. We drove up to Dallas to meet him with Seven in tow. We wanted them to meet to make sure there was no obvious initial hatred. I have to say, she was pretty disgusted bordering slightly on hate. But after a five minute walk in front of PetCo we looked at each other and said "I guess it's ok." I'd love to say that it was love at first sight and we were over the moon for him and Seven had hearts floating above her head, but it just wasn't that storybook. We signed the paperwork and hopped into our little Honda Civic for the three hour drive home. The dogs were in the back seat together - in hindsight, and having done rescue for 11+ years now, this was not the smartest way to handle things. But off we went. For the first hour and a half Seven spent her time trying to climb into the front seat. If she could have flipped us off she would have. And then, half way home, something changed. I don't know if she gave up or if he used some sort of telepathy on her, but they started playing. A 36 pound Dingo mix and a 110 pound Great Dane in the back seat of a Honda Civic. The car literally rocked from Waco to home! And that's when we knew we'd absolutely made the right decision.

So Preacher, the dog formerly known as Duffy, is gonna be celebrating 13 with a big ole hamburger tonight! Maybe I can talk him into sharing with Seven for old times sake.

Preacher Man Update, sort of.

I don't really have much of an update. It's just that I took this soooo cute picture of him this morning and I was dying to share it!! Things are pretty much status quo. I will say this, when anything goes wrong with your pets, family, friends, whoever, I think the first reaction is to baby them or coddle them. And along the way as different things have come up with Preacher we have definitely done that. As an example - there for awhile he had lost confidence because he had fallen a few times. So every single time he wanted to get up we were right there to "spot" him and sometimes to literally pick him up and move him off the couch. I think we thought he had lost more strength than he actually had. In fact, he was just a bit insecure and we were feeding that insecurity. Over the past couple of weeks we've made him do it on his own and he is doing sooooooo much better. He is not nearly as weak as he would have had us believe. He actually seems to be getting a little stronger and I think it has a lot to do with him having to actually use his muscles instead of us doing it for him. Anywho, that's the latest! Happy Thursday everyone!

how does that serenity prayer go again?

I'm not one of those people who thrives under pressure. Let's just get that out there. Maybe that is not something that I should share, I should let everyone think that I am, at all times, calm, cool, and collected. But since I am fairly certain that the cat's out of the bag, I don't think putting it in writing is gonna shock anyone. And to say that I don't "thrive" is a little misleading too - the fact is, I can truly shut down under pressure. When things pile up I can go into full on panic mode. So a few weeks ago when I was whining about work being slow...well, be careful what you ask for because I am SLAMMED now! Which is good for the business side of my life. But then life comes along and makes work seem so trivial. It's all such a big, giant balancing act.
But in times like these, in the evening, no matter how late, if I can find some time to sit in my chair with a dog or two in my lap (or a foster puppy around my neck like a stole) I can recharge a bit. I honestly don't know how people live with out animals. I don't. When I am sad or anxious or mad or whatever I can look at one of my dogs and realize that for them - I am IT! I am the end-all-be-all (well, me and Tom). And over these last few days it feels pretty good to be such a rock star even if it's just to a dog.

Just what the doctor ordered.

Boy, did I need this weekend. I cannot remember the last time we had a weekend with absolutely nothing going on. Seriously, I bet it has been years. I'm not exaggerating. There is always something. Sure, lots of times it's fun stuff, dinner with friends or family, dog adoptions, just stuff. But this weekend we didn't have a single plan. It was Heaven! We lazed around Friday night and I sat and knit while we watched a movie before starting a Weeds marathon. We don't have fancy cable so we don't get to watch the show as it happens, but once it hits Netflix it's on! The show is not for everyone for sure! But it's funny and has these characters that you root for but you can't figure out why. If you watch House you know exactly what I mean...except that I can't root for him anymore, that thing has gone off the rails! Anyway, we watched like 8 episodes of Weeds Friday night, slept in a little on Saturday, did some work during the day, then started up the marathon again. It was awesome until we hit that last episode! Argggg! Still, it was relaxing even though I am dying to know what idiotic thing Nancy does next!

ps if you also need a Barney Fife mug/knitting needle holder - and we all do! - you can get your own right here.

Bleck.

Not sure what prompted me to stick Horatio in the sink last night. I guess I could say it was to give him a bath, but it wasn't. I was looking at the pictures this morning and realized they look like I feel. A little pitiful.

I got word this past Sunday that one of my cousins passed away. She was only 27 years old. We weren't close, but that didn't change how incredibly sad I felt for her daughter, her parents, her brother... It's just such a shock when someone so young passes away. It's just so hard to make sense of it. I can't wrap my head around it.

Yesterday morning I got the news that one of my friends dogs died suddenly during the night. The dog, Wittle, was the sister of three of my dogs. Tom and I raised them all from three days old after their mom had died having them. My friend Lisa came over one day to see them and without missing a beat said "That one is mine." She was the runt of the litter and weighed 2 ounces when I got them. When I went to pick them up from the desperate woman who called begging for help, I looked into the box and literally thought she was trying to pass off a litter of gerbils as dogs. They were that tiny. That was almost eight years ago. And today my heart is aching for that little baby who we bottle fed and loved until we could pass her on to her new family. And as much as I hurt I know these families, my cousin's family and Lisa's family, are desperately figuring out how to move forward.

Some people might think I'm nuts to write about the death of a person and the death of a dog in the same breath. But love is love. I am not claiming that one is more valuable than the other, only that the pain is real. And I wish them both relief and peace from the pain.

July 8 - Double Up on Metalsgirl Gift Cards