Saying Goodbye

thThe past few weeks have been an emotional roller coaster. It started with Brady getting the flu, strain A to be exact. My boy was sick. He told me it was the sickest he’s ever been. Coming from him, that is a large statement.Flu-Season

He’s been in and out of hospitals his entire life with his asthma. He’s encountered many different types of sick.

We Lysol’d and Lysol’d every nook and cranny but I still fell ill about the time he became well. Not long after that, Bryant joined the “down for the count” club. Bryant was followed by Christian, who was followed by Haven.

I believe we finally got rid of the flu, but not without a loss. You see, in one of my sickest points Piper (see My Best Friends) was begging to go outside. When Piper begs she is very mouthy about it. In fact, I don’t think I have ever owned a dog that talked to me like she does. So I let her out and returned to bed where I then fell asleep. Forgetting Piper was out, she ran off.

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Piper

I awoke to a phone call from a neighbor asking if that was Piper on the side of the road down from my house. My heart stopped for a minute. I remembered Piper wasn’t inside. I instructed Christian to go down the road and see if it was Piper. Sure enough, my girl had met her demise. Her lifeless body lie dead on the side of the road. My best friend. I let her down. wonceinalifetimedog

No words can explain the somber of losing a dog. It is so hard. It affects everyone in the house, including my other two best friends who still haven’t figured out where Piper has gone. They only know that their Mom is sad and their friend is absent.

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Sometimes you get on a roll in life. Be it a good run of bad luck, or good. I seem to have been on the later of the two. Not to be outdone, Brady’s great grandaddy passed away last week. A mere few days after the loss of Piper, we lost a wonderful, influential man from our lives.

Grandaddy (we dropped the great because it’s easier that way) and Brady had a special bond like no other. I’m not a grandparent yet, and I hope it is a LONG time before I am, but I do know that whether they want to admit it or not, grandparents have their favorites. Brady was his. No doubt about it. He talked to grandaddy on the phone more than anyone else in his life. Almost daily. When school events didn’t get in the way he spent nearly every weekend with Grandaddy. They always had some chore that needed to be done, and I think Brady found it fun to play around the farm with Grandaddy.

Brady

Charles, Brady’s great grandaddy, was Brady’s dad’s grandaddy. So you would think that because he and I are no longer together, his Grandaddy and I had become distant. Not the case here. The man was so loving and so great with Brady. Until this year, you could count the number of sporting events he had missed of Brady’s on one hand. Rain or shine, he was there to see his boy.

What the worst part of this is, Brady was sick with the flu for a little over a week and couldn’t go see him and risk giving it to him. When he got over the flu he had several basketball games. His grandmamma called two nights before his passing and asked if I could get Brady to call her. She said Grandaddy was asking to see Brady. The plan was that the next day she would come get him and take him to the nursing home to see him.

The time came for Brady to leave and he got a call from his Grandmomma. The doctor wanted to speak to the family, the trip to see him would have to be postponed another day. It was that day that Great Grandaddy was called up. Brady never got to tell him goodbye.

I checked him out of school and had to deliver the bad news. My strong boy didn’t cry. His face was red and the tears filled his eyes, but he didn’t cry. I told him, “son, I know you are upset, and that’s okay, you should be.” “But son, you don’t have to be ashamed to cry, especially not in front of me,” I told him that holding things in would cause you to go crazy.

And so the tears fell and fell. We got home and he went to his room and locked the door and sobbed. His grandmamma came to get him. He stayed there at his great grandaddy’s until yesterday.

The funeral was Saturday and of course, I went. Thank goodness the flu was about a day behind me and I was able to go. Because Brady needed me. He was not okay. It is a strange feeling to be in a church full of the family of my ex but their family is so loving and so accepting of all. I received many hugs and “so good to see you’s”.

The time came to close the casket and begin the Funeral part of the funeral. Brady nearly had to be pried away from his grandaddy’s casket. He didn’t want to say goodbye. My heart broke because there was nothing I could do to make it better. Nothing at all. And I have never seen my boy this upset. Never! A mom wants nothing but happiness for her kids. She wants nothing more than to make things better, but this is an instance where that cannot be done.

Great-grandaddy taught my son so much about life and how to be a man. And he did a dang good job of it. The world lost a truly wonderful man. We will all miss him dearly. But I am so glad Brady has so many great memories and lessons learned from him that he can carry through the rest of his life. I am blessed to have had such a wonderful man be a part of my son’s life for so long. If I could tell him how thankful I am for him and all that he did, I would.

One thingtumblr_m8ex8s1RSk1r7zepzo1_400 I wish I could say goodbye to is all of this pain I am feeling constantly. It is getting old. I wish I could have just one good day. It doesn’t seem like an attainable wish.

Homie’s Jewels

spay-neuter-2Well, today is a good day. The past 7 days have been something. If you are following my blog you know about my best friend, my Homie, my dog.  You know that I have expressed that I will lose my marbles if anything were to ever happen to him. Well, I lost them last weekend. I need to explain.

Homie is a wanderer. He will slip off if he is left outside unattended. He’s an escape artist who can smell a woman’s musk from miles and miles away.  He is a ladies man. I don’t have a fenced in yard. I have wanted one, but I honestly do not think there is a fence around that would keep him in. Boxers jump. HIGH.  They also dig deep if need be. So to have a fence which would be large enough to hold him in and give him plenty of room to run would be outrageous. He loves to run circles around our house and he needs that. He is so full of energy. And I am so unenergetic and unable to take him for runs like he needs. I am just very vigilant when it comes to him. When we go out, multiple times a day, I have to watch his every move. He can not get out of my eyesight. And he knows he can’t and things are okay.

Saturday I was working in my bedroom and I asked the kids to take him out because he had been begging to go. They did and he came right back in. I assume he didn’t have enough time to do whatever it was he needed to do. At some point, later on, he slipped out with one of the many kids or their friends.  It wasn’t until nearly 4:00 pm that I took a break from working and decided to take the dogs outside. I quickly noticed Homie wasn’t home. I panicked. I went up and down the roads in our neighborhood and the neighborhood beside us screaming, “Homie” out of the window. This went on and on and on until after 11 pm. I just knew that this time was different. This time he was gone. This time I had lost my best friend.

I cried, and cried, and cried. Ugly cried. I cried so much that my eyeballs stung. They hurt. I didn’t want to take my night time meds because I was afraid there may be a small chance he would come back and I would be asleep and unable to let him in. I felt like I was to blame for his leaving. I should have had him neutered a long time ago. I should have checked to see where he was earlier in the day. I should have done this. I should have done that. It is, and always will be, my fault. Then I found myself also feeling as if no one else in this house cared about things that I value. Nobody else noticed my best friend was missing. How is it that they have lost him? They must not even love me. These are the erratic things that go through your brain when you are losing your mind. And I was losing mine rapidly and on a grand scale.  At one point I was even mad at my other two dogs for not consoling me during my breakdown. Homie would have been all up in my grits during a fit like that. He would have been there for me. Why aren’t they?

I had planned for this. I knew that this day would come. I just didn’t think it would be this soon while he was still so young.  I’m not sure if other people keep the loss of their pets in the back of their mind the way that I do. I have lost a lot of good dogs in my lifetime. And the loss of them has always been so overwhelmingly miserable for me. I think that because of this I seemingly try to prepare myself in hopes that it won’t hurt as bad. I know that isn’t going to work but, irrationally, I do this anyway.

Finally, around 3:45 am, I decided to take my Ambien. I decided to call it a night. I decided he was really gone. And I laid down on the living room couch to cry uncontrollably one last time before I went to bed. When I got up to go to bed I decided to check the back door one last time.  To my surprise, Homie was there!!! I couldn’t even get on to him for having left. I was over the moon. He stunk, he was muddy, he was slobbering and panting something fierce yet all I could do is hug him and tell him how much I love him.

So flash forward to Monday morning. My first order of business was to call the vet and schedule him to be neutered. At some point during my fall apart my mom told me to make him an appointment when he got back to get him fixed. She would pay for it. Thank the Lord above for that. Because after all was said and done, it cost $364.30 for him to turn in his prized jewels.

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Homie’s last night with his manhood.

 

He went in Tuesday morning. He went happily. He is such a sweet dog. He had no idea what was about to go down. He just trotted his big self right back to the back with the vet tech with absolutely no worry. He thought we were going on an adventure I suppose. He spent the night there after his surgery so that they could give him pain medication for 24 hours. Wednesday morning when I got there to get him that same trot was not there. The vet wanted to explain to me all of the medication and wound care I needed to do for him in the coming week. She felt like I couldn’t hear her because of Homie’s loud overjoyed panting. So she asked the vet tech to go ahead and take him to my car so that I could hear her. I have never seen a dog stand his ground the way Homie then did. He was planted on my feet. He wouldn’t budge. As if he was saying, Nope, I’m not going on any more of your adventures, thank you very much, I have my mommy.

So, there you have it. That is what my week has been like. A roller coaster of events that were game changers for both Homie and me. Piper is scheduled to be spayed on September 5th. I will have all dogs accounted for at that time. I can not stress enough to people how important having your pets fixed is. There are so many unwanted puppies in the world and so many being euthanized. I am to blame for taking such a long time to have Homie fixed. I didn’t want to take his youth away from him. I felt like having him fixed would, in some way, make him a different dog. I see how stupid that was to think now. And if I had it to do all over again, I would’ve had his jewels removed as soon as they were able to be.

Today, as I said, is a good day. Homie is home and his balls are gone and he is on the mend. I hope you all have a great weekend.