♫ ... Leaving on a Jet Plane ... ♫

I'm really looking forward to this trip. It's long and it's far away from everything that's caused me so much heart ache last year. My gosh it will feel so good. I just need to clear out those cob webs in my head --- and well, if Sparks is coming with me on this trip in spirit, I'll make sure I'll be indulging him as much as possible by visiting sausage shops as often as possible. 

Speaking of indulging and sausage: Am I the only one who still buys hot dogs and cheddar cheese bits, purely out of habit, because I'm so used to living with a mooch? And whenever I do grab a hot dog out of the fridge, I usually announce "Look what Mommy's eating".  ---> Dorky, but therapeutic -- at least for me :o)

Good bye my little e-friends ... I will be sure to check in and will post pics whenever possible.

Auf Wiedersehen.
Hugs.

Seven Months

I can't believe it's been 7 months. It seems odd to be here without my trusted little sidekick.  8 months ago I would have never anticipated being alone again. I love that I can still remember the feel of his fur, or his nose, or his feet or tail. Or all those little bumps and lumps he was getting in the last year. I think I could still pinpoint their exact locations today.

These days I often think about something that I read a few months ago. The person said "we are their heaven", "they stay with us because they love us and they feel comfortable around us". I know the topic isn't widely accepted and I was one of its biggest skeptics, but it's something that has kept me sane throughout the grieving process. I feel better knowing, or rather believing, that I don't walk alone. If I step out of the door, I feel comforted by the thought that Sparkers is still walking beside me, even if just in spirit. It's something that helps me heal. And if it's true, he's gonna get the experience of a lifetime next week, because I decided to go to Germany for a month. It'll be good to be away from everything and to be spoiled by family. I think it'll help clear my head. And when I get back, I would like to start actively looking for another fur child to join me in my adventures. I think I am ready. And I'm pretty sure that Sparky would approve. After all, he knows he's my little top dog, and no one ever will take his place.

Trudging Alone

I took a little mini vacation over the weekend to unwind from the bar exam and see some old friends, including someone I had only met because of Sparky's illness; a dear friend, who has been following this blog and whose pup passed away not long ago due to the same disease - CANCER. I hate this disease - it took the joy out of my life; it took my little boy, Sparky. I figured that spending all this time alone after the bar exam, with nothing to study for, and not even a job (pending results) would give me plenty of time to mourn the loss of my sweetheart. I dreaded this time.

Previously, there were many moments, when I felt Sparky still closely connected to me, but lately, this feeling has faded and I miss him even more. I often would sit on my bed and suddenly get a faint waft of his fur. We also had a song that used to pop up on the radio all the time after his passing. And of course there were other instances when I just felt like Sparks was sitting close by, keeping an eye on me. It's been difficult not having many of these experiences anymore. I miss him just as much as I did when he first left.

Today I decided to walk down to the beach for the first time in months. Our beach. The beach where Sparky would end up romping around half the afternoon, meeting new friends and sniffing a gazillion different doggy butts. At first it felt okay and I was glad that I went, but when I got closer to 'our spots' it just became more and more apparent that I was walking alone now... I saw a few doggy parents and their mutts, but it just made the matter worse. In the end I spent time building a little memorial, which surely will be washed away by the waves tonight, but in some way it allows me to believe that Sparky will get my little message and that I haven't forgotten him in all these months and I still wish I could kiss his sweet face one last time.

It's really not easy walking alone ....

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

(Last trip to the beach, July 2009)

Six months and a Bar Exam later ...

I'm back!

It's been 2 months, and I just finished the bar. Thank goodness. What a long drawn out process and I missed everyone's blogs here. I'm still a little shell-shocked from all the bar exam "excitement" but I wanted to check back in.

I was digging through some old pictures again, looking for some gems. I truly wished I had taken more photos of Sparky, but I guess it would never be enough anyhow. I can't believe it has been 6 months now. Some days it feels like he was just here yesterday... But, I'm excited to be back and can't wait to read everyone's blog updates! :)

More later ...

 

This always cracked me up. In the 'old days', Sparky  would

be chasing lizards all morning long, circling the wood stack like

a mad dog.

Merry Christmas Sweet Pup - 4 Months

Today is Christmas Eve. It also represents the 4-month mark of Sparky's passing.  Needless to say, it's been tough this holiday season and one of the main reason for me not posting as much as I used to. I almost want to say "Nice going Sparky!" with a little smile on my face.  Sparky was good at getting right into your face if he wanted something, especially if it was about him getting more attention. Having an 'anniversary' on Christmas Eve is something that is definitely Sparky-ish. He was a smart boy. I know that this is a difficult time not just for me, but all of us who've lost our pups in recent months/years. Christmas used to be a time when I would go crazy with doggy toys and Christmas decorations. Sparky would always be in awe about the Christmas tree, looking at all the twinkly lights and probably contemplating whether it was worth getting in trouble for pulling down an ornament and running off with it ... This year I decided not to celebrate and I'm fine with it.

The other reason I have been neglecting this blog is because I've been preparing for the February Bar Exam, and most likely, I'll be disappearing again for another 2 months. But before I do, I wanted wish you all a peaceful Christmas, and hopefully a wonderful New Year.

 2008

2007

 

 2006

 

 

2003

Merry Christmas Sparky.
Mommy misses you.

3 Months - Yesterday

I meant to update this blog yesterday,  to officially acknowledge Sparky's 3 month anniversary of his ... passing. I didn't and now I feel guilty. It wasn't that I failed to think about it, I just didn't know what to write this time. Sometimes it's hard to fake it. So instead of trying to come up with something witty or cute, I'll just close with one of our last pictures ... I miss you Sparkers - so much.

Rest in Peace, Puppyface.

Mutt Manipulation

Sparky had a subtle way to let me know when things were borderline unacceptable to him. I believe this picture was taken while I was on break from law school. I think I had a total of 3 weeks off, but with pre-semester prep, that time was cut down to about two weeks. I remember that day I dared to lounge on my bed, watching TV, rather than being out and about with El Pooch. Don't get me wrong, by that time, he had been outside for a walk at least  2 or 3 times, but nevertheless, good was not good enough. Not when there were plenty of hugs and kisses that could have been given instead. Gosh, I loved this pooch.  So he would sit by my bed, quietly, and he would stare me down, literally. I would try to ignore him, showing off my "alpha-dog powers", but in the end, the needy pup would always win.

 

Another amazing Sparky-feature was his nose. It was big and juicy. And it had a freckle on top, one that would grow larger and larger with age. His nose was the culprit for his constant battle of the bulge. I always wished he had a little bit more self-control ... especially when it came to my dinner plate. I don't remember many times when I was able to eat my own plate without having that big, black nose nudging me, nudging the table, or the plate itself. And when I gave him a stern No(!), he would momentarily go shy on me, bow his head, lower his ears, and look off to the side ... but only for a few seconds before he would look back up to me, waiting for me to crack a smile. My vet used to tell me that he was a  little manipulator and couldn't be trusted when he had zero-ed in on something he wanted... mostly food.

There are so many Sparky tales that I hope to remember and memorialize in this blog. Dogs like Sparky, who have the patience of a saint, proven by the fact that he was living with my neurotic self, shouldn't be forgotten. I guess over the last few months I've been struggling with the fact that many people indeed were ready to forget... I think he was my little counter part, my side kick, my 'better' half ... Wherever I went, a story and a picture of Sparks went as well. When Sparky passed, so did the stories and the pictures, and a little part of myself ... Time heals all, I know ... some things just take a little longer, especially when they were as amazing as my Sparky.

Setbacks

There have been a lot more bad days than good days lately. At this point, I'm wondering when the big lump in my throat will finally disappear, or it becomes easier to go home to an empty house at night. The evenings have been the worst. It's been 10 weeks and  there's still that big, gaping hole in my heart.

I miss you Sparky....

I always loved taking him in for a hair cut. This one was one of

the more ridiculous ones. Good times.

Two Months

It's been two long months since Sparks has left. I've been sitting here today, thinking about it all, and realizing that even though time has brought a little bit of comfort, not much has changed at all. While the frequency with which I am reminded of his loss has lessened, the intense grief, when I do remember, is still there.

I just miss him so much... I wish I never had to let him go.

Cows and Licks

I was driving by a big, juicy, grassy area today and I had to think about Sparks. He was definitely excited whenever I let him loose on our neighbor's patch of grass. He would roll around, rub his snout, grunt and snort, bite into it, scoot across it face first ... He was ecstatic! Eventually he would just stand there like a little cow and he would graze ... and graze ... and graaaaaaaaaaaaze. Every morning the same routine, with me ending up promising a big meaty breakfast if he'd kick it into next gear. I miss those little moments of just 'us'.


There are quite a few friends in my life right now, who are going through tough times with their pups. I want you all to know that I think about you daily, and that I do pray for you all and wish you the best. There's nothing worse than feeling helpless when your fur child is suffering and you're not able to help. Above all, there's nothing worse than trying to figure out when their quality of life has decreased to a point that life in general has become meaningless to your sweetheart. I found this website to be extremely helpful in making an informed decision...

http://www.caninecancer.com/endoflife.html

We always wonder whether our furbabies will give us a sign when they are 'ready', and I think most of them will. But it depends whether we want to see those signs and acknowledge them. For me it was important to not listen to my heart (which was screaming at me to continue to hang on) but to listen to my head, and be rational, and most of all, be compassionate.

During Sparky's last few days, there was an improvement at one point and I eagerly called my girlfriend to tell her that Sparks was fighting back. She had the compassion and the insight to tell me that he would never get better, that things were only going to get worse. For some reason, as intelligent as I thought I was, this had to be pointed out to me ... I don't know how I had missed it up to that point. The day he passed away, after a long weekend of not being himself, he came over to where I was sitting, and for the first time in 3 days he was 'present' and he licked my cheek, as if he wanted to lick away all those tears and tell me that it was okay - that he was ready to go, and that I would be okay without him... Oftentimes I think about this moment and I think how big it was of him to do this, and how very wise and so much more mature than I could have ever been.

I truly think they do give us a sign, and all we have to do is listen ...

To Poop or Not to Poop...

I remembered one of Sparky's little quirks the other day and I wanted to share it, even though it may be entirely disgusting to a dogless person.

Sparkers had a way about him that was just priceless. He had a habit of doing a little post-poop dance, almost like the NFL players when they score a touchdown. It always made me crack up. This little dance was also very useful if, for example, I'd be out in the yard doing stuff and Sparks would roam around on his own. The minute I'd see him bouncing around, and hopping towards me, mouth wide open into a big goofy smile, I knew exactly what had transpired. And so I would go off on my little "Treasure Hunt" making sure he didn't end up fertilizing the neighbors lawn again. He also was a very modest dog. If we were walking together on the street and the mood struck him, he would gracefully excuse himself behind a bush or tree and do his business there. Always out of sight. I think it had to do with stage fright. :D

Sparky was such a unique dog. He was so lovable, so goofy, soooo incredibly well-mannered, and sooooo needy, but sweet. I loved every minute of every day with him. I know I've said this before, but since his passing, things haven't been the same. I miss my Sparky-induced moods ... I'm back to my serious self. Life is just so much more complicated without my boy ... I miss his antics... I miss everything.

Sleep tight Puppyface.

Clippers and Things

I've made some "official" progress. I've been able to actually take Sparky's bed away, and I was able to give away his doggy ramp. Both things were incredibly difficult, and both things broke my heart a little bit. But I know it's the beginning of my healing. Most of his other stuff is still here though, locked away in the closet, to be kept for later when it hurts less to look at it.

One of the items locked away are his clippers. There are so many funny stories revolving around those clippers. When I first got Sparky he came with a big, thick Newfie-coat. Because he was so incredibly matted and stinky from the previous, neglectful owner, I had him shaved professionally. It was at that time that I noticed that our little furry friends are able to feel embarrassment. Hah! When he came back from the groomers, he didn't want to get out of the car. He was embarrassed and I could clearly tell. As a matter of fact, I had to drag him out and he immediately disappeared in the house where he would stay for two days, only coming out once in a while to do his business. By losing his coat he had shrunk about 2 sizes and I think he felt less of an alpha dog and more like a toy poodle. He was obviously upset with me and I knew then that my baby held a grudge. The trauma usually didn't last longer than 2 days, and by day 3 he was truly appreciative of all the weight lifted off him.

Anyway, the next time grooming was in order, I figured I could do it myself instead of spending 100 bucks each time. The result you see in the picture above. There were holes and missing patches of fur everywhere, but Sparky was a trooper and I think by posing for this picture he tried to make the best out of it.

I miss this goofball so much.

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.