In fact, all of these three pets to the left have gone across the Rainbow Bridge, but two were mine - Rogaine to the left and Peanut to the right. Both Peanut and Rogaine were by my side in 2005 when I came very, very close to death and wished it so... Neither one left my side through those long, long months of recovering and now here I am, alone and both of them are gone...
I have stood at the rescue shop and talked to other folks who have lost their pets... We always have this odd hesitation about discussing this topic for some reason... What do you say?... And how do you do it? Do we not all broach the subject and wonder if the person is questioning (in their own mind) why we are hurting so deeply over the loss of 'just a dumb dog'?...
I know I do...
I have yet to talk about losing Rogaine to lymphosarcoma in 18 days when I did not get that 'look' in a person's eyes... Either they can relate (and do so), instantly telling me how they lost this pet or that pet ~OR~ I can see they don't hold the same value to the loss of a pet's life as dear as I do...
I would need to take off my shoes and socks to count the number of times I've seen that mental process going in inside their heads... "It's 9 years ago and this woman is STILL getting emotional and choking up over the death of her dog?"... And using my toes and my fingers, I could would need more digits to count the number of times in nine years I have seen 'that' look...
So how do I even BEGIN to explain this loss of Peanut to anyone?... I know in my head the second we begin living we also begin dying, but my heart wants to know it is not true...
While Rogaine taught me the meaning of unconditional loyalty and love, Peanut taught me rescue, what a Chihuahua was all about and gave me a focused purpose in my life...
I promised I would save one dog in his name every month of my life for the rest of my life during Rogaine's last moments, but Peanut taught me to take on the hardest tasks in the worst of times (saving the number one breed dying in the shelter systems when the economy took a dump) and make things better...
Although I continued to foster for other rescues after losing Rogaine, Peanut forced me to look at the high volume of Chihuahua and Chi mixes in the shelter and ask myself, "Why? Why must THEY die? No, Linda... you can make a change and you must...."
And there is just no way to explain these losses to anyone else, nor can I expect others to know how I am feeling... For those addicted to Facebook or a cell phone, I can explain it in terms of 'imagine no Internet access or a cell phone glued to your hand for the rest of your life'...
Does that equate it to about the same depth of loss?... No, not really, because neither the Internet nor a cell phone have a beating heart... But for someone who has just dropped and broken their cell phone, they get an inkling of the loss (until the stop at the AT&T or Verizon store)... Close, but not so close...
And through Peanut's intelligence, she showed me that every dog can be trained... That it does not matter their age... And that each dog 'pays it forward' to other dogs... Something that few humans practice each day of their lives, but a mindset that dogs do all the time...
Whenever I started fostering a new dog, PeaniePean had this 'walk around' stance she'd do... Tail not quite wagging but erect... Sniff, sniff, sniff... And if she did not like the way they smelled, you'd see her do that slow wag that showed what her mind processes were doing... She quickly taught me to immediately bathe all shelter dogs, throw away any collar they had on and give them a fresh clean start before introductions to others in my home...
I LOVE smart female dogs - I can't explain it and I won't apologize for it... She just 'fit' inside my heart like butter over a toasted Thomas' English muffin - through all the nooks and cranies, ya know?... I loved to watch her mind work and I was blessed to have 11 years of this memory...
So, how do I now fill this huge, huge void in my heart and in my life?...
I caught myself the other night reaching down for her and about to call her name to put her to bed... Peanut slept in a crate at eye's level aside of my bed... About two years ago at the ripe old age of 15, she stopped being able to hold her bladder throughout the night... Prior to this, she fell asleep every night, curled up aside of my belly... She and I went to sleep as I slowly massaged and patted her from nose to tail... It was almost a ritual at night...
And when she moved to the crate to sleep (so mom no longer woke up in a wet, cold bed), I would put my hand through the crate bars and do just about the same thing...
Now I reach at night but there is no Peanie to be rubbed and patted now...
Is the loss human in scope?... Well, to me it is... At least once a day when I was home, Peanut would do something to make me laugh... She wasn't the kind of dog that did well in the general public in her later years - she had no patience for strangers (although when younger, she did enjoy shopping for fabric for some strange reason!)... But she sure did things that would make me giggle or just think and wonder...
Will I see a comical but very smart wee one every day in my life again?... Doubtful... Peanut was a 'one of a kind' kind of dog...
Do I love other dogs?... Sure, there is foster momma love and you love all of your dogs to some degree... But once in a great while, one comes along that is so truly special they carve out a niche in your heart that you know is unique and extremely hard to replace...
I will not say "Good-bye, Peanut" but just "See you later..... ".
Love,
Mom
For more of PeaniePean in a Smilebox tribute
