Candles = Memories

I can feel the holiday season coming already. I'm not too excited about it right now, but nevertheless, I bought scented candles the other day, and I was reminded of a funny little story that took place while Sparks was still around:

I had returned from grocery shopping and had purchased a set of vanilla-scented candles. I lit them immediately and started unpacking the groceries when suddenly I felt a nose poking me from behind. I turned and saw Sparky going through all the grocery bags that I had just carried in. When he couldn't find what he was looking for, he just stared at me. At that time I had no idea what he wanted either, so I showed him all the contents of my bags and let him pick. Nope, that wasn't it. He continued to roam through the house, nose high in the air. I broke out in laughter when he suddenly started to lick the air. What a hilarious sight: it was a fast lick, almost frantic, while walking through the house, desperately trying to pick up where the scent was coming from. It finally dawned on me that those candles were the cause of this and that he was trying to lick up the vanilla.

I always wondered whether my fuzzball was the only one reacting to scented candles like that. Clearly, I had a big foodie on my hand ... he was able to pick up any food scent from ten miles away. He could be in deep slumber, at the other end of the house, when I would try to open the fridge and get myself a little something. By the time I'd close the fridge door, he'd be behind me, cornering me with those big brown eyes, looking as if he hadn't had a decent meal in over a week ... I love those memories. And I loved that look. What a big mooch.

Mommy misses you, puppyface.

One Month

My Sweetheart:

Today, it's been one month since you've left my side, and I still miss you so much that it hurts when I think about you. I've been doing good and I've been crying less, but it doesn't take away from the pain that I feel every day when I look at your empty little bed. My eyes are no longer so puffy, but my heart still breaks. I wonder every day, whether you are okay, or whether you miss your mommy? I wonder whether you are upset that I still grieve so much, but then I feel you're doing the same up there, somewhere. I wish we could have had many more years together. You leaving me, was never the plan... I wish I could hold you one last time. I would love to bury my face in your fur, and hold your sweet, little cheeks, and stroke your soft ears. You are my other half. You are part of me and I haven't been the same since you left.

I miss you honey. I miss you so, so much.


Love, Mom.

A little Reprieve

I've survived my first day puppysitting a little unruly Boston Terrier ... and oh my, this little rascal is nothing like Sparks, which is probably a good thing. Not only must he be the most hyper dog I've ever encountered, he's also never heard the word NO, I'm pretty sure of that. But he's cute as a button, so that makes up for all his bullying.

It's been good getting out and doing things with Charlie, the BT. I'm staying at my friends nice apartment, close to the beach, and we've already established a little routine. Most of the time I'm just plain busy chasing him, or being chased by him. Hardly ever do I get time to reflect on how different he is. There was a moment earlier, when I just thought how nice it would be to have a mellow Sparks by my side, walking without a leash, eager to please. I looked at Charlie and he gave a little sneeze, as if he was disapproving my thoughts. I suddenly had to think about how funny Sparky sounded when he sneezed. It usually was loud and intense, and it always made me laugh, especially since his whole body would shake in the aftermath. I would always exclaim "Gesundheit, my sweet!" and Sparky would look at me, almost with a little smile. I realized that moment that I would never have the chance to say that again, at least not to my sweetheart. It took a lot for me not to start crying right at the beach, but I managed, because Charlie quickly pulled me out of my thoughts. I think the trick lies in not thinking about how it would 'never' happen again, but just to think about, "okay, it's not happening today" ... It goes right alongside the overused phrase of "one day at a time" but it's true. If I think ahead, and look at the tremendous loss and what changes are happening (most of them I don't like) then nothing good will come of it. It just throws me deeper into my despair. So I will try and stay in the moment. It's still tough to think about how a life like Sparky's can be over so quickly, just gone. It's seems weird that there is nothing else? That's why I can't quite believe it sometimes ... Anyway, I'm pretty sure Sparky would have gone crazy around Charlie, hah. Sparkers was a lover, but little dogs would make him nervous. It was always cute how he'd try to gingerly step away from dogs like Charlie.

You know, what I really like about this puppy sitting gig is the puppy smell. Charlie has this doggy scent that I've missed so much. Of course it's nothing like Sparky's, but it's similar and it's comforting ... Speaking of which, that little spot in front of the TV where carpet meets tiles, where the boy used to lie, it still smells like him. I don't think I'll ever be able to vacuum there ...

And since we've already talked about weird topics (or at least insinuated), such as "there must be more than just death" ... I'm starting to think that maybe stuff 'is' going on ... There's this one particular song that came on the radio one day, in Sparky's final days, and I remember thinking about how it kinda fit us, how it was sad, but how it somehow felt right ... it wasn't an exact match, and it certainly wasn't about a human and a canine, but it was 'us'. Anyway, this same song has been coming on the radio whenever I am in my car ... I tend to change the channel right to it every day, at least twice ... I tend to think that my little angel is giving me a sign ... Yes, the song is sad, and I want to sob when I hear it, but it's also 'us' and I feel it connected us then, and it still connects us now ... and that's all I want these days.

Have a good weekend everyone.

Hugs from Sparky's Mom.

Puppysitting and other Things

Tomorrow my puppysitting gig will start. I'll be keeping company to a 6 month old Boston Terrier. I'm really looking forward to it, but it's also pretty scary. I'm afraid that spending so much time with another dog might backfire on me emotionally, but then I can't really say that I am necessarily stable at the moment. Things change a lot. What used to be easy before, such as watching old Sparky-Videos or looking at his pictures, has become extremely difficult. The time that I would spend during the day not thinking about my boy, has been replaced with that dreaded feeling of emptiness. It used to be easy to be in denial, but it really is not anymore. It's almost as if reality gave me an initial break with my emotional pain, but it's now doubling up for sure. It's just so hard. I don't want to sound like a broken record, and eventually I want to turn this blog into something useful for other dog parents, but right now I can do nothing but cry about him, and about our time together.

My head's not right. I've noticed that. I don't know why suddenly I feel I made many mistakes. I keep thinking about the few times that I had to discipline my little boy, and I'm riddled with guilt. I think about those times that I had to work so much, and my heart sinks. I feel so much guilt. I wish I could have given him more, and I wish 2 years ago, when we first found out about a tumor in his lung, that I would have had unlimited access to cash. I don't know whether it would have helped, but I wish things would have been different. I just feel like I haven't done enough. God, I still miss him so much.

Anyway, I have to keep my head above water. I'm going to try to enjoy my 3 days with Charlie, the Boston Terrorist. I'm pretty sure he'll keep me on my toes. He is a spoiled little bugger, but I think that's exactly what I need right now.

Moving Along

It's been two weeks, one day, and 6 hours since my sweetheart left. I still don't quite know how I am feeling, or whether I am dealing with things appropriately. I'm still confused. And I still have that huge hole left in my heart.

But I do notice some improvement. Since bringing his ashes home, I am feeling more at peace. Having him here has given me some closure. Or maybe it's because I feel more connected than before, while he was gone... I know it sounds ridiculous, and I never was a big believer myself, but I do feel his presence sometimes. Not very clearly, but little things happen once in a while, that make me smile, that suddenly remind me of him. For example, I have talked about fur popping up where I least expect it. And today, I was walking in my office building and suddenly I could smell him so strongly that it made me stop dead in my tracks and look up and all around to locate the cause of the scent. It was strange, but I loved it, and it made me smile.

I need to take time to really feel my loss at the moment. The easy way out would be to go and get a new dog. But of course there could never be a replacement. I certainly have looked already. Not so much because I thought I could replace him, but rather because I wanted the distraction, just a little break from the emptiness. But I know that deep down I am not ready.

Anyway, I am dealing with things, and they have gotten a little easier. I understand what was happening in his last month. I understand that it was his time to go and that he gave me everything he could, including bonus time. I know that he only stuck around because of me, and a little part of me feels guilty for having wanted him to continue to hang on. The only doubt I have is whether he really knew how much he meant to me; whether he really felt just how important he was to me. I hope he did. He never was just a pet. We were team-mates, partners in crime, soulmates. There are no words that could describe the love I had for my little boy... . He was everything in my life. I wish I could tell him just one more time how much I loved him.

Home

I finally was able to go and get his ashes. Since I got the call last Monday I could do nothing but think about it. People told me to wait if I wasn't ready. I know I wasn't quite ready yet, but to leave him there was even worse. I was hoping it would give me closure.

I left work early because I've officially entered the anger stage of grief. I caught myself getting snippy with the receptionist, and that wasn't a good sign. My boss was, as always, fully supportive of me. So I drove straight to the vet. On my way there I was reminded of that last drive we took together and it brought tears to my eyes. I felt my hand reaching down next to me, where he had sat on his very last day and so many times before.

When I arrived at the vet, I assumed I would be able to at least tell them why I was there, but I couldn't even do that. It was just a tough task to do, but we figured it out. He's in a light wooden box now. It's heavy, much heavier than I anticipated, but then I never had anyone cremated before. Still, it was good to have him back with me.

On the way home I placed 'him' where he sat that very last day, right next to my lap. My hand was draped over the wooden box, just like I had it draped over his head 9 days ago. I did feel a little bit relief having him by my side, even if he was in a different form.

I found a nice spot right where he used to lie in front of the TV. I placed a couple pictures there and a vase of white roses. The roses where given to me yesterday. I had arrived in class and on my table, these beautiful roses were left for me. They were sent to me by one of my previous professors, because she had found out through the grapevine that my Sparky had passed, and that he had been an amazing companion and my little souldog. I have talked to this professor maybe once in two years. It was such a beautiful gesture and while it brought quite a bit of happiness that moment, it also brought sorrow because I would have loved to share this moment with Sparky. It made me so proud to be his mom. He was such a wonderful dog, such a lover, and everyone he's ever met, he's touched so deeply in their heart.

I miss you sweetheart!