A Girl Called Sophie & Our Story of Loss, Recovery and Renewal

Years before losing Molly we talked about taking a trip across America to help distance ourselves from what we knew would be an agonizing experience.

Never make plans for something you will do when your life gets so tangled and pain ridden you can barely walk out the door, let alone drive cross-country.  You think you know how you’ll feel, but you don’t.  Only days before we lost Molly, my 100-year-old Mom, a powerful force until her last breath, left this world forever. Few could have kept me from being by Molly’s side in her final hours, but of course I was with my family so I never got to say good-bye.   We are blessed with an incredibly dear friend who helped my husband through an anguish even his worst nightmares could not imagine.  Neither of us will ever forget what she did for us those days when we were simply lost.

If you have a pet, especially if you’re retired, you know the pain when that light in your life goes out.  She was the joy that made us laugh, the exercise we needed, she gave us a reason to walk up the street, talk to people we might otherwise never meet.  She was our responsibility when there seemed to be none left.  She needed us; we needed her.  It’s extraordinary that a little white fluff of a being can walk into your heart, leave footprints all over it and when she’s gone it feels like the earth has swallowed you up, spat you out and you’ll just never ever be able to stop the tears from falling. 

That was early May and nothing went as planned.  Instead I poured over the Internet searching for exotic places to run to.  We rented a condo on Fernandina Beach just to go somewhere that wouldn’t remind us of Molly … so brave, so sick at the end, never letting us know until those last few weeks.  We escaped the deafening silence, the echo of our voices, the loss of laughter, the endless tears.

“It’s only a dog” … only a dog; it’s only my heart, my arm, my leg, our joined souls.  We were inconsolable.  When I began talking about another dog, my husband couldn’t bear it.  He felt no dog could ever measure up to Molly, that we’d be scarring her memory by bringing another dog into our home, into our hearts.

Before Molly we had 3 wonderful cats.  When our last cat, Sammie, left us 6 years ago, we still had Molly.  For 40 years there were at least four paws on the floor.   Now there were none.  I couldn’t do it.

So it began …. the gentle nudge.  He was steadfast.  He felt we needed the freedom to do whatever we wanted.   But all I wanted was to hold a dog in my arms and in my heart.  I ‘googled’ and found shelters, read horrifying stories of puppy mills, surrendered and abused dogs rescued from indescribable surroundings.  My Facebook’s feed is filled with more dog shelters than it is with friends.

Molly was everywhere, we found her in clouds, we saw rainbows more beautiful than ever before and all this nourished us and helped us heal.  So in early July when I saw a picture of a little dog called Rosie, I had a feeling.  I don’t know what it was about her. I wanted a little Yorkie-type dog, or a Shih Tzu.  But instead along came this funny looking dog with crooked ears looking out at me with huge eyes that seemed a tiny bit sad, but somehow beckoning.

I’ll always wonder what drew me to her.  On the 4^th of July I talked Ray into going with me and he knew we were in trouble.  Here was little Rosie, with a poodle sort of body and a funny little face with an under-bite.  She was energetic, happy, loving.  She jumped from my lap to Ray’s; so well adjusted considering she’d been in shelters the past few months.  Just 2 years old, she’d been turned into a shelter many miles south of us just days before Molly died.

 “What should we do?”  … “We should take her home”.  That sounds like the end of the story, but it was only the beginning.  We‘d been stuck and little Rosie, who we called Sophia Rose, unstuck us.  This little ‘holy terror’ came into our home and bounced off the walls.  I wanted her out of here, I felt worse than I thought I could ever feel.  I experienced guilt, remorse, and panic.  Who was this stranger? I didn’t want another dog … I just wanted Molly back.

But then I looked down at her lying on my chest, eyes closed, so blissfully content.  She was where she was meant to be.  Sophie came into our lives, made us laugh and certainly made us love again.  As much as she misbehaves, every day we learn that in her “other life” she’d been trained.  We slowly learn the words and gestures that she quickly recognizes. She began by taking up a small space; soon she filled the empty hole in our lives.

We still see Molly in the clouds; the sun rises and sets, tides ebb and flow, babies are born, people fall in love.  The hardest part of life is losing someone we love.   For a time we can’t move.  But there is a strength that gathers, lifts us up and we land firmly on our feet.  For us, it took a girl named Sophie  … or maybe Molly worked her magic because she never liked seeing us cry. 

Whatever it was there’s always a way back, time and space will always take us there.

With Love & Memories,

Molly & Sophie's Mom

Making the Flowers Grow ...

Not gonna lie ...it's been a bummer!   The view from ground level was pretty darned good and I didn't want to leave, but the view from here is pretty awesome, too.  There's something to be said for a dog's life ...  time doesn't exist, we come into this world and have no idea what lies ahead, we don't even think about it and we never regret the past or worry about tomorrow.  We just enjoy every single hour with the people we love unconditionally from day one to infinity and beyond.

It may be hard for people to know what it feels like to live in the moment, but for us it's just the way it is.  When I was barely 8 weeks old I saw Meme for the very first time.  I buried my face in her neck so she'd know that I wanted to be with her forever.  I have been, I still am; it's just different now.

When I started feeling lousy a while back, I had no clue everything was about to change.  I just knew I wasn't up to doing all the things I used to love to do.  It's really better not knowing.  Every morning I woke up ready for a good day.  For a while that worked and then it didn't. I think it's better I didn't know where we were headed.  Since Meme and Poppy didn't know either we had a lot of good times the last few months even though I knew something was off.  We went back to the beach for a week, I got to have my favorite little bits of french fries at McDonald's, I did my darndest to run over the footbridge the way Poppy and I loved to do, we drove down our street real slow with the window down so I could sit in Meme's lap and stick my head out feeling the breeze blow against my face (one of my personal favorites).  And best of all I was with my peeps and we didn't have a care in the world.  Life was definitely good; I have no regrets at all.

But when I stopped eating I got stuck with needles and examined all over.  I didn't like that.  I looked at Meme and tried to make her understand I didn't want anymore of that.  So she brought me home and they just did the absolute best they could for me until it was time for me to move into the next part of my reason for being here.  There's much to be done; I've got my work cut out for me.

Part of me just stopped working; nothing anyone could do about it.  I was on this earth for 11 fantastic years which in people time is really a very long time.  So far no one has figured out how to make dogs live long enough so we don't have to say good bye so soon.  Maybe someday we'll get that figured out, but the fact is I was getting old and sometimes stuff just gets out of whack.

I sure did have a lot of love back there on the ground.  Sometimes, even when I wanted to just have a moment to myself, they'd come scoop me up and snuggle me.  And sometimes I was like "Hey get off me!  I'm an adult here!!!"  And at the end my Poppy held me in his arms and my wonderful "Aunt" was there loving me and I just felt so good ... if I were a cat I'd have been purring!!  All of a sudden some foreigner I'd never seen before swooped in and absolutely destroyed my special moment.  Boy did I give her what for!!!  Right to the end, I was tough and pretty darned brave if I do say so myself.  I never let anyone know I felt sick because I really wanted to stick around as long as I could and I sure didn't want anyone to be sad.

 I do know this ... there is no end.  No matter what anyone may believe, whether it's that we live on in the hearts of the people we love or whether we're actually here in spirit doesn't matter.  This is a world without end and one way or the other we will see everyone we love again.  I'm doing everything I can to prove from this vantage point that I can do things I could never do at ground level.  I know Meme and Poppy are missing me terribly and I wish there was something I could do to let them know that it's okay, we're all going to be okay.

There is an orchid plant on our patio.  Every year Meme would get so excited when it bloomed.  She's not good with orchids and it only bloomed once a year.  I was there when it bloomed this year so gloriously.  When the blooms died away, Meme hung the plant back in the shade of the ficus tree to wait for the blooms another year.  But just days after I left ground level, Meme happened to be trimming the ficus and she saw four new stems filled with buds just getting ready to burst.

There's no such thing as coincidence, but there are miracles if you just believe.  There are lots of stars in the heavens, but I'm thinking none of them will shine as brightly as I do.

".....I am a thousand winds that blow. 

I am the diamond glints on snow. 
I am the sunlight on ripened grain. 
I am the gentle autumn rain. 
When you awaken in the morning's hush 
I am the swift uplifting rush 
Of quiet birds in circled flight. 
I am the soft stars that shine at night...." 

Mary Elizabeth Frye

'Til next time ... wherever, whenever, it may be,
Molly

Molly
 Our Sweetest Girl

January 15, 2001

May 6, 2012

Forever in Our Hearts

Molly at the Rainbow Bridge

On May 6, 2012, we lost our dear sweet Molly to Chronic Kidney Disease.  She was a brave little girl until the last and our hearts are quite literally broken.  Right now, without her down there around our feet, bouncing on with her usual zest, the house feels empty.

But she will write one more Tail from the Rainbow Bridge.  Knowing our Molly, she will say good bye with her usual sense of joy and positive outlook.  I expect she's working on that now, but needs just a little space to get it right.

We have so enjoyed sharing our lives with you through our little girl.  I am going to miss looking at life from her ground level. 

Love,
Heather, Ray & (of course) Molly

Find Your Bliss ...

Writing can be difficult.  I’ve been a blank for months…. nothing comes to me.  Usually the words just tumble from the sky and onto the page and all I have to do is rearrange them a little, but lately … nothing.

This morning Meme was reading Ellen’s book, a woman so well known Meme says she doesn’t even need a last name; not many people like that in this world … Madonna, Cher, Kiss (oh, wait, I don’t think Kiss is a person’s name)  Anyway, I’m way off the path!

 She says Ellen writes as if she is sitting there talking with you, almost a stream of consciousness, and I was thinking I usually write that way; words just seem to spill out of me randomly.  Anyway, Ellen was writing something about shopping and somehow that got me thinking.

I just don’t “get” shopping; I guess you’re either a shopper or you’re not.  I don’t see what’s fun about it at all, but Meme loves it.  She says it’s hard to shop in bad economic times because you gotta have money to do it and when times are tough, evidently, there’s just not enough money.  This isn’t a personal problem for me, you understand, because I’m basically a parasite.  But I do give what I can by loving everyone even more than they may deserve. But back to financial woes … even though the government can evidently just print more bills when they run low (another problem altogether), we can’t do that in our house.  Well, we could but that would be illegal.   The good part about that would be we’d be put in jail and be taken care of forever but from what I hear the accommodations aren't anywhere near as nice as here so that's not an option.

One thing is for sure, even if it means buying something stupid, Meme is going to shop and Poppy is going to keep getting upset when the UPS truck parks in front of our house.  He even said maybe we should invite him for Thanksgiving dinner since he comes by just about every day, more than a lot of our friends!  Plus he brings presents every time he comes and sometimes they're treats for me!  And no matter how many days he pulls up, I bark.  It’s what I do.

Back when Poppy was working Meme could just sneak her new stuff into the house and put it away before he got home.  She would put on a new pair of jeans or something and Poppy would say “Are those new?” and she’d say “These?  No, no … I’ve had these for ages”.  And sometimes if it was something big she would keep it in the trunk of her car and sneak it into the house when he was out.  Now they only have one car so that technique is down the tubes!   Sometimes she goes virtual shopping just to get it out of her system.  You may wonder what that is so I’ll explain it to you.

She drives to a store like Marshall’s, Target or Costco, someplace with shopping carts, and starts her journey through the aisles.  She loads up her cart with all kinds of stuff she thinks would be nice to have in her house or hanging in her closet.  After an hour or two of this she pulls everything out of the cart and thinks about it really, really hard.  Then she reverses direction and puts everything or almost everything, back where she found it.  She feels virtuous if she leaves the store with an empty cart and thinks about the $500 or so that she’s saved to spend another day.

I know.  Weird.  Makes no sense at all, but she calls it a fun day.  Then there’s “online shopping” which is completely different but really fun, too.  What you do is think of something you want a lot, type it into Google and you’re off and running!!!  This is a most magnificent joy for her as store after store pops up selling exactly what she wants!!!  So then it’s a surfing spree to see where she can get it for the least amount of money, on sale, no shipping, maybe a Retail-Me-Not coupon or a cash back from her Visa.  You can spend an entire day shopping for just one thing.  The opportunities are endless.  Meme has full “shopping bags” all over the internet some days and her inbox fills up with little “Did you forget something?” notes which make her feel really important, like someone is looking for her.  Eventually she deletes everything in her “basket” and moves on to something else.

Poppy doesn’t get it, I don’t get it, but she does and isn’t that all that matters?  I fill my free time with stuff I love to do.  Life is short and we should fill our time doing things we love to do.  As long as we’re not breaking any laws, or getting in anyone's way, or peeing on someone's grass, who cares?  Find what you love to do and do it … if you can make money doing it, or even save money doing it, all the better.  But more important than anything is that we look for what fills us up and makes us happy.  Happiness is contagious.  We can't make the world smile all at once, but one smile at a time works for me!

‘Til next time,

Molly 

Neighbors & Friends

It sure was a splendiforous Holiday season from most everyone's perspective but mine. For some reason I don't get to go to the parties that I know for sure were taking place all around us because I heard lots of laughter and some of it was Meme's and Poppy's.  They think I can't hear with the doors shut, but I can.  And I let them know it one night in my own special way. 

Still, I have to say that Christmas morning was pretty special even for me.  It was "just us" and I knew something good was going to happen when the stockings arrived on the bed.  There were 3 ... one for each of us.  I had treats and bones and best of all a piece of rawhide which is usually a big no-no for me, but this was a very special day.  So all the presents were opened and everyone was pretty happy with their bounty.  Only problem was I didn't smell anything cooking which meant, one more time, I was left home alone.

We live in a community with lots of neighbors.  When you fly in, the houses look like they are attached ... that's how close together they are.  Even though Meme grew up without another house in sight, she always wished she had neighbors.  All grown up she lived in an apartment in New York City for years and years. And Poppy, too, was used to the city with neighbors close by. So Meme has memories of what she calls the "sweet innocent life of the country" while Poppy remembers the "exciting sweet life of the streets". They often argue.... whoops! I mean "discuss" the pros and cons of both.

If they asked me I'd vote for neighborhood living.  When I go out for my romps, I like to see people and other dogs. It just makes life much more interesting. But the truth is every house is filled with people who live separate lives from us and love their dogs as much as I am loved.  People have stuff they have to do, jobs they need to go to, kids they have to take care of or parents who need their help. There's always something going on that puts people into their cars and takes them down the street and out onto the highways ... sometimes just for an hour or two and sometimes for days or weeks at a time. And when they drive out of their driveways and out onto the street they wave at their neighbors as they pass; if they have a few extra minutes they'll stop, roll down the window and talk for a bit. But then they go on their way and their neighbors go back in their houses and they may not see each other again for weeks at a time.

Hanukkah came very close to Christmas this year so in December there were people celebrating special holidays all over the world.  Everyone everywhere was just friendlier and on our street there were lots of decorations and lights. The back of our house looks across a lake and the people on the other side put up the prettiest holiday lights I ever did see.  Meme considers those lights part of our decorations and she "frames" our view with tiny white lights on our patio trees. The bright festive lights sparkled on the water like dancing fireflies on a New England Spring evening. And then there were the parties with neighbors inviting neighbors into their homes so they could get a chance to know each other better than a quick wave as they go about their lives.

There's something about the season and something almost magical comes over just about everyone this time of year.  People reach out to their neighbors inviting them to share some time with their families and friends.  And while I'm left home to wait for Meme and Poppy to come back, I also know what it means to live in a place we now call "home", a place once alien and so far from everything they'd ever known and loved.

So with the holidays behind us we begin a brand new spanking year.  It's a time everyone starts fresh with a clean slate, an empty canvas with a brand new set of crayons, the mistakes of last year set to rest ... when we promise ourselves that this year will be different and we'll stick to all our resolutions.  I know there's one thing I hope and my family share .... that all the camaraderie that everyone shared over the holidays continues and everyone doesn't go back in their houses closing the door behind them, waving quickly from their cars as they drive down the street.   We're all in this together; we all face the big stuff that comes our way so maybe we can keep that warm, friendly feeling going all year long.  We sure can try.

 'Til Next Time,

Molly

Taking the Long Way Home ...

We're safely home after another endless road trip which pretty much amounts to me lying on three of my beds in the back seat of the car with cushions all around (Meme's definition of doggie air bags). In order to drink a simple splash of water I whimper a little so Meme will whip out this special water bottle that she squeezes and water dribbles pathetically into a sort of bowl that's attached.

We stop at weird parking lots along the highway with rest rooms and some pretty pathetic grass for me. Heaven forbid I set paw in the 'pristine' picnic areas. I totally don't get this because I'll put my little white paws up against their dirty shoes any day of the week, but I digress. We visit McDonalds and Wendy's and then overnight at the Hampton Inn which is totally boring because I can't even look out the window!

After a couple of days we finally get where we're going and we move all the stuff from the car into a strange house with all sorts of unusual smells, lots of sand outside to run in and more water than anyone could ever drink but for some reason I'm not allowed to. No sooner I adjust to breaking every routine I've ever known, we load everything back in the car, go through the whole fast food, parking lots, Hampton Inn thing again and end up back where we started from!!! Humans can be pretty confusing sometimes.

About a century ago; or was it sometime in the last century ... I get confused ... Meme's family would pack everyone into the car (3 kids and 2 very large dogs) and drive from Connecticut to Cape Cod where they would rent a little cottage for a week or two . Now mind you, the littlest kid sat in the front seat between Mom and Dad on top of all the sheets and towels and the other 2 kids, along with 2 giant dogs, were in the back seat with the dogs' heads hanging out the window with their drool running down the glass. And there they would all be for the next 4 hours or so counting license plates from different states, singing along together, with the littlest one in the front screaming "Where's my Cape Cod?" about a mile down the road from their house. No SUV, no station wagon, no DVD player, iPods, video games, no seat belts or child-safe seats ... just their 4-door Ford with the metallic green paint tooling down the road off on a holiday together. It was the best of times.

Meme has such wonderful memories of those vacations that the older she gets the more she wants to be back there. She does whatever it takes to recreate those moments kicking it up a notch by renting right on the beach looking out over the Atlantic ocean. They started out renting on Cape Cod a few years ago, but the older they get the harder the drive is for them so they keep moving closer to home. Poppy says why can't we just drive the 12 miles to our own ocean??? Why not just go to the beach every day and out to dinner every night right here? Meme just shakes her head in disbelief ... he just doesn't get it.

When you drive the back roads to Topsail Island you pass through a town called Fair Bluff. It's gone in an instant; you barely have time to draw a breath and if you're talking or not paying attention, you may miss it. For Meme it was like stepping back in time. We didn't go that route on our way up to Topsail, but we drove that way coming home. It's too bad Meme was at the wheel or she'd have pictures to share, but she says maybe it's meant to be left etched only in her mind.

With all the hours of driving and tons of days soaking up the sun and Topsail Beach, it's funny that little town stood out for her, but it did. Just about 40 miles from bustling Myrtle Beach, Fair Bluff rests along the Lumber River in Columbus County, NC. She laughed as we passed a sign saying "city limits" until she was reminded of the 'cities' in the 50's. As quickly as we entered the city it was gone and we drove past trees along the river covered with Spanish moss and on through the rolling countryside as if it never happened. But now she knows it's there ... Fairbluff. In a time when we yearn for a better world, Meme thinks this just possibly may be a town called "Hope" and a link to better times down the road.

But I've got my tail in front of my head again so let's get back to our vacation. We visited Topsail last year and Meme ached to go back. So before Poppy even knew what was happening poor guy was trudging up the stairs with bags and boxes for 9 days at the beach. He's getting a little long in the tooth for this, but Meme keeps saying the next time she'll pack more lightly. But what she actually does is buy lighter packing bags and puts all the same stuff in smaller boxes so each one may weigh less, but he ends up making a gizillion treks up the stairs!! He says why can't Meme find a house that isn't on stilts but she keeps explaining they couldn't see the ocean!!! It just never ends with those two. You have no idea what I have to put up with.

Once I settled in with all my favorite things close by me, we really did have a super duper time relaxing, sitting on the deck, taking walks on the beach and looking for shells. They also left me behind and went out to dinner, but I don't want to bring that memory back. The first couple of days there was a ton of rain as hurricanes passed way to our east. The waves were huge and I wouldn't go near them. But by the 3rd day the clouds slowly opened up to the most beautiful clear skies and soon after the fierce ocean we'd been greeted by quieted to beautiful rolling waves breaking along the shore and Meme was never far from her camera.

We brought home stones washed by the sea and shells thrown up by the waves and we've got hundreds of pictures to remind us of all those perfect days looking out over an ever changing sky and ocean. And still Meme thinks about the city of Fair Bluff where just for an instant following a perfect vacation, she was reminded of a time long ago when life was so much simpler and held so much promise.

Sometimes the back way can take a bit longer. But sometimes the answers lie in veering off the beaten track even if it takes us a little out of our way. One thing is sure, the ocean will always be there and hopefully so will the houses that lie along its coast. But when you come to a fork in the road, taking the road less traveled can sometimes make all the difference.

'Til next time ...

Molly

If you'd like to see more of our vacation pictures, just click here:

picasaweb.google.com/106137413221576546805/TripToTopsailIslandSeptember2011



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~ Being 70 ~

Well she's not really 70, not quite. But it's coming on like a freight train. She's trying to decide whether to hug it and own it, or defy it and fight it. She's leaning toward the latter; I'm pushing for the former.  After all, she's already way past 69. I say hug it and love it ... we're talking just a tiny baby step to the big 7-0.

I'm not going to tell you all the nasty stuff that goes on with every passing year after 60 (not 50 like you heard ... turns out 50 is the new 30 so you get a pass for that decade). But 60 is 60 and not the new anything. So after 60 stuff starts happening; slowly so you don't notice until you wake up one day and there are hairs growing where they shouldn't be and not growing where they should. 

Suddenly your skin starts getting little spots that expand on a daily basis and little thingies seem to come out of nowhere in the most alarming places. And no way I'm going to waste our time talking about the ugly thing your face does as the skin starts making its way to the ground without the skull you thought it was attached to!!! And other things fall down I can't even begin to describe.

Nope! Rather than focus on all that negativity, I want to tell you about the blessings of being 70. Meme's going to tell me them, but she has to reflect for a bit. Then I'll write it down so that when the time comes down the road, or even if it's already here for you, knowing these things will lift your spirits and brighten your day.
'Cause that's what I'm here for in case you didn't know.
There's the ocean at dawn before the sun comes up, when yours are the only footprints in the sand except maybe for mine. And the sun slowly rises saying "Lucky you, I'm giving you a bright new day". The difference in greeting that day being 70 is that you have the time to appreciate every single second. You see grains of sand where once you saw the beach. You see the sandpipers scurrying along the edge of the water instead of the dirty old shoe washed up on the shore.
And even if you see that shoe, now there's something beautiful about the way the shoelace falls on the sand creating rivulets as the tide turns away. The morning light plays against the worn leather. You take a picture because you need to capture that moment and hold it close to your heart forever. Now you have time to dream for a moment and imagine a loving couple down by the water years ago. They kick off their shoes to walk along the water and somewhere further down the beach, they forget about their shoes. Years later, there's that shoe washed up on the sand with the sun reflecting the years tossed by the ocean. You have the time now to reflect and smile about that.

The laughter of children takes on a new note since they were your own, back when you had to worry if they were strolling off or swimming out too far. Now their laughter blends with the breaking waves creating a symphony as you pass, the laughter fading behind you as you stroll by. Your own laughter feels joyous, easing all that may lie heavy in your heart and makes you feel as light as the air you breathe.

You wear a badge of the pain you've felt and the loves you've lost. You can still feel the exquisite pain of a 16 year old girl when the love she was so sure would last forever somehow ends. A pain so excruciating that she is almost sure her eyes will never dry and assuredly never stop burning. And 25 years later when that boy dies, the pain returns as wrenching as it was all those years ago. Of course you can tell all this to the 16 year old girl and she will look at you, eyes misted over, recognizing only your complete and total stupidity because how could you possibly know what she is going through. But you do. And that may not help her, but it definitely helps you.

At 70 you know how music makes you feel, taking you back to a special day at the beach on the Rhode Island shore when you sailed all day on a sunfish, hopped in his convertible to drive the long way home, top down, heat on and a cold wind blowing across your faces .... "What's New Pussycat" played on the radio. The sunshine made you both a bit fuzzy and you got lost on roads you knew well, but somehow you followed the moon and found your way home wrapped in a moment you would never forget. Music brings back memories so perfect; probably more perfect than they actually were.

Meme says that throughout a woman's life her friends are as important as family. Being 70, she is proud to count her best friends on one hand ... the friends she's known for 10, 20 and 30 years, who have seen her at her worst, her best and all those places in between. Some live close and some live far, but they are always there for her and she does her best to be there for them. Then there's the wider circle of friends ... the women who add laughter, lend support, send out a Birthday wish and soothe her when she bleeds. She feels her friends encircling her, securing her in a safe place. It takes years to feel this fortress of friendship. Friends are the foundation that hold you up and support you and you know when to walk away from what doesn't.

A nap is one of life's greatest blessings that all God's creatures enjoy as babies. Dogs are smart enough to never stop napping from birth through our final breath. But for people at some point the naps stop and don't start up again for decades. And then one day it's nap time again. No one knows better than me how good it feels to let a light blanket settle over you as you lie down in the afternoon, your eyes close and a soft, blessed sleep comes over you for a little while.

And finally, if you're really lucky, you've been married for a good long time to someone you know so well you can guess what he'll say next, who stands by you even when you're at your worst. You go to sleep at night comfortable knowing he'll be there with you as long as you both take breaths. You reach a level of contentment you cannot experience at 20, 30, 40 or even 50. You are settled, your roots firmly planted, you know who you are and finally you actually like yourself. You no longer question yourself nor apologize for who you are.
Sure you have less to look forward to than what you look back on, but is that necessarily a bad thing? I think maybe not. There's a reason we're not here forever.
And the good news is that dogs live less time than people so I'm catching up to Meme. I'm not 70 yet, but before you know it I'll pass her. And when all is said and done, I'm going to be there waiting on the other side and we'll cross that bridge together ... you know, the rainbow one with the pot of gold.'Til next time ...Molly

Unreasonable Doubt

Maybe the truth was just too difficult to absorb or too horrific to accept. Perhaps the jury could only take in the more digestible theory tossed out the first day of the trial … that it must have been an accident so devastating that someone needed to make it disappear, make it anything but what it was even though there were not then, nor are there now, any facts to support that theory, circumstantial or otherwise. But maybe the alternative was just too unspeakable for them to bear.

Meme is upset, I mean really upset. She believes in her soul that Casey Anthony got away with killing her little girl, not necessarily on purpose but purposeful or not, Caylee’s not here anymore. And Casey knew she wasn’t here as she frolicked flamboyantly through 31 days seemingly without a care in the world.

Sometimes when I write I'm not sure where Meme leaves off and I begin. I'm sort of an extension of her or maybe she is of me. But I can write for her almost as if she’s writing herself and that’s what I need to do today.

The trial was on TV every day, all day, for weeks. Her laptop in front of her, Meme would mute the TV during commercials and increase the volume on her laptop so she wouldn't miss a minute. She was reading Casey's letters from jail and absorbing evidence that tumbled around in her mind and invaded her dreams as she slept.

It would have been fun if it wasn’t all so horribly real, if it hadn't been about a little girl’s death at the hands of her own mother. The more she got to know the family, the more upset she became.

And then the verdict came down. As the clerk read the first charge followed by the words "not guilty" Meme said "she's going to walk". I wondered how Meme could be so positive about her guilt, but except for a few pictures, she saw and heard everything the jury did. And because they were often removed from the courtroom, everyone watching saw even more than the jury. So the armchair viewers became the silent jurors. The majority of those people heard the verdict with shock and disbelief and they're not so silent anymore.

In the days that followed, she tried to work through it. She wondered how the jury could have seen it so differently, puzzled over what trial they were watching … certainly not the one she had seen. A couple of jurors insisted they found "reasonable doubt" which left them unsure whether it was murder or an accident that caused Caylee’s death. Even though more doubt surrounded the accident theory than murder, they chose accident.

Reasonable doubt … maybe we live in a time where we're just too reasonable, excusing the inexcusable, forgiving the unforgivable, there are no bad people, just good people who do bad things … judge not lest you be judged or something like that. One of the jurors admitted she wouldn’t be comfortable judging another person.

So we look for excuses. We search for a family secret that could possibly explain the unexplainable. We give the benefit of the doubt even when little doubt exists. Children are raised with no consequence for bad behavior. Casey herself was only 22 years old when her little girl’s life ended. Her behavior for the 31 days following the death of her child was undeniably diabolical.

Meme believes the jury just couldn't accept what seemed so obvious to so many of us. Accepting the reality of little Caylee dying at the hands of the mother she adored was so abhorrent that they felt compelled to accept the hypothetical that Caylee drowned in the pool and her Mom simply lost her mind for the moment and committed unspeakable acts, or possibly someone else did along with her or on her behalf. They couldn’t judge because no undeniable absolute proof positive was placed in their laps. And then toward the end a witness who could explain it away, make Casey’s behavior okay, just one of many reactions a person can have when faced with enormous grief. The Defense played a game of psychological manipulation forcing the jury to take their eyes off the ball and focus on something more palatable … sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors.

And they succeeded. It’s easier to accept an accidental death, nobody’s fault. This pretty young woman couldn't possibly be so evil that she would drug her child to sleep and then either by mistake or on purpose overdose or smother her to death.

They sat in the jury box and saw the circumstantial evidence woven masterfully. Maybe they returned to their hotel rooms alone and away from their families and were so haunted by what they had seen that they just couldn't come to that conclusion. Maybe they couldn’t see the bits and pieces that separately could not condemn, but pieced together most assuredly could.

Who knows? We thought she was guilty; the jury said she wasn't. But more than one person knows what happened that day. When more than one person knows something, it's not a secret anymore. The awful truth, like scum, is sure to rise to the top one day.

And even if it doesn't, will Casey ever truly walk free? The media tells us she'll make money from people who believe they can draw the truth from her. I wonder if she knows her own truth anymore. She’s told so many lies that it all blends into something even she can’t figure out. She might be pitied if she weren’t so despicable. The best thing we can do right now is ignore her.

Life rights our wrongs either in this world or the next, but usually this one. The guilty may not be in prison but neither are they free. If she’s guilty, she carries that burden forever. Casey Anthony will not move gently through this life. She could change her name, her appearance, shut the door and never look back if she wanted. But her jailhouse letters tell how Casey reveled in her celebrity; she would ponder how to wear her hair the next day or what behavior the camera may have picked up in court. She’s shown no grief, no remorse, and no accountability for anything she has done. Cameras will follow her, strangers will write to her, even send her money, but the attraction is neither one of awe nor admiration.

The final verdict is not yet in; the final court has not yet spoken.

You’ve found safe harbor, sweet Caylee … rest with the angels.

‘Til next time ...

Molly

The Doctor's Office

So the stress test results say that Meme isn't 100% normal. We already knew that and it's not necessarily a bad thing. But poor Meme says "and so it all begins ... old age, tests, doctors, yuck".

She got a call from the doctor's office saying she needs another test, she's not 100%. Seems like if one test isn't normal, they do another test to actually find out what's wrong with you. Call me "just a dog", but I say why not just do that test straight out of the gate; save a lot of time, money and worry.

Of course she wants to know exactly what that means; just how much of a percent is she? But they won't talk over the phone. She's told she can come in the next day and discuss it with the nurse practitioner. I should explain that Meme's doctor became one of those fancy boutique kind that you pay an annual fee just to be able to talk to them. So now she's pushed off on the nurse.

But the nurse wouldn't get on the phone with her. Again they insist she must come to the office (i.e. become billable) and then they'll talk. Meme had a few choice words while all the time assuring the voice on the other end of the phone that she's not angry at her, just the situation. She's told she can either come in or see a cardiologist to talk about the results. She decides to go that route. She asked if it was any kind of emergency and she was assured it was not, she should go on vacation and enjoy ... plenty of time when she returns.

A couple weeks later her appointment was at 12:30. They called the day before to confirm and ask her to arrive 15 minutes early to fill in paperwork. Because she always plays by the rules, she was dutifully there 20 minutes early. The paperwork took maybe 2 minutes tops. There were several people in the waiting room, but there's more than one doctor so no worries. She settled in, there was a nice widescreen TV tuned to her favorite news, all was well.

There were 2 clipboards on the counter ... "Gastro" and "Cardio" and Meme came to realize there was one doctor for each clipboard. Another patient grumbled a bit about the wait, went up and looked at the Cardio list. He told his wife the last guy in (at 12:45) had an 11:15 appointment! He sat back down and they continued holding hands as they had been doing since Meme got there. Meme thought how sweet that was, but she's not nearly as patient as this nice couple.

About 10 minutes later Meme ventured up to the desk and asked the girl how long a wait did she think it might be, how late was the good doctor running? She clicked away on her keyboard, looked at the clipboard and then clicked again. She said "You're Heather, right?" Yes. And then ... "There are 4 patients ahead of you."

4 Patients??!!! Say WHAT??!! It's 1:15 now. One patient had been called since she arrived. Being a bit of a numbers whiz, she quickly does the math and realizes that at that rate she'd be there at least 2 more hours! And she hadn't even had lunch! They asked if she'd like to reschedule and she said yes, that would be a good idea.

You may already know that I believe everything happens for a reason. Well, I'm right. As she stood there hoping she wouldn't go into cardiac arrest in the meantime, Meme decided to confirm that the office received the stress test and blood work results her doctor had faxed over. Click, click, click .... "Ummmm ... I see we received your mammogram ".

HER MAMMOGRAM???!!!! Hello! Oar out of the water? One or two porch lights out? What gives here? Meme's in a Cardiologist's office for Pete's sake!!!!! I guess I don't need to tell you that Meme had a little conversation with her doctor's office the next day.

They told her that since she'd already filled out the paperwork and provided her license and insurance card, she only needed to arrive about 5 minutes early to which Meme responded "Well, you already owe me an hour soooo.......".

Postscript: Meme opened a letter from her insurance the other day. They were billed almost $7,000 for the stress test. This is after about $5,000 for the blood work. And she feels just fine!! We don't even want to think about what happens when she's actually sick. Maybe these tests will avoid that, maybe they won't. Of course her insurance didn't pay all that money and Meme will have to pay some, but $12,000 seems like an awful lot to me just because she mentioned maybe it was time for an EKG. That's how this snowball started rolling down this horrible hill.

Not even going to tell you about my health issues; that's a chapter for another day. But I feel fine so I'm not going anywhere near a doctor if I can help it

'Til next time ...
Molly

Fair warning from one who knows ...

Meme was out of the house real early this morning. I wondered what on earth could be so important that she'd leave me so early, and with no breakfast (I always get extra food when she has breakfast). She didn't seem upset so I thought maybe she was headed out for some special treats or something.

Boy was I ever wrong ... and so was she!!! She thought she'd be gone a little over an hour ...ha! Instead what happened next set her brain in a tailspin (pardon the pun) and she came home dragging and all meshuggeneh. So while she's recovering I'll do my best to translate what she said and tell it as close as I can to how she told us.

There are some words we should never trust ... things like "mild discomfort", "you'll feel a bit of a pinch", and now this new one: "maybe a little rushing or flushing sensation". These are words commonly used in, you guessed it, the medical profession. And if some friend tells you a test was "a piece of cake", don't trust them either because we're betting they were slipped something under the table from somebody somewhere ... maybe a Starbucks gift card (more on that later).

Seems Meme went for a Nuclear Stress Test. She can't have the regular kind because of problems from her car accident. She made the mistake of not googling 'nuclear stress test' before she went today; she googles everything under the sun so this was an oversight or maybe not. I don't get it at all because one of her favorite sayings is "forewarned is forearmed". Well, poor Meme wasn't armed at all this morning!

She arrived at 8:30 a.m., right on time. She'd been barred from all food and drink since last night and no caffeine since yesterday morning. So already she's not off to a good start. And then she woke up with an awful headache ... two strikes.

Strike three was over an hour wait which I think is a huge no-no for a stress test!!! No coffee, no food, and now an hour wait? I mean, are you serious? Let's stress this lady out first and then do a stress test. So when she finally got in (the doctor was late ... what else is new?), her BP (usually very low) was up. But given the temper tantrum she was trying to control, she thought it was pretty darned low all things considered.

She's been fortunate health-wise throughout her life. She's had chicken pox, tonsillitis, colds, flu's, a few relatively minor surgeries, back problems and one major car accident. Other than that, she's in really good health when you think about all the birthday cakes she's eaten. But she's had a lot of tests and according to her sometimes tests can be as bad as whatever is wrong. Now and then we just may be better off riding it out and letting the chips fall where they may.

She can't have a "closed" MRI, goes insane in the tube. But going in for this test, it never occurred to her a tube was involved. So finally, IV inserted (surprise...who knew?), she walks into the room where everyone is being way too friendly and warm while the room is absolutely frigid. It's over 90 outside, why do these places have to be so darned cold? She sees the table and the tube and decides to remain calm and not give herself away. No one wants to be a wimp.

As instructed, she lay down on the table with her head in some sort of pillowed device that didn't feel bad at all. She was then attached to all sorts of monitors. She couldn't see so she didn't know what, probably just as well. She mentioned she was really cold and they gave her a blanket which was nice, but didn't help her bare arms which had to be stretched way above her head the entire time. They tell her this will take just 25 minutes and all she has to do is lie completely still.

Easy right? Easy wrong. Lying still is not as simple as it sounds because it's another word (at Meme's age) for instant cramping, her foot going numb, and itches on her cheek and eyelid that she can't wiggle or scratch away because she's not supposed to move. So Meme decides to use meditation. Visions of beaches, soft breezes on her cheek and the soothing sea start to form in her mind as she prepares to lift herself from where she is and put herself in another place and time. She can do this.

Suddenly the table starts moving into the tube and Meme's tiny voice says "you're not leaving me inside the tube, are you?" No, no ... not to worry, going straight through. Midway, the table stops. Instant anxiety attack begins and she calls out "Don't leave me in this tube!!" Silence. "HellOOOOOOO! Get me out of this tube!!" ... not such a tiny voice anymore. And a seemingly distant voice says they're just taking a couple of pictures and then they'll take her out. "I CAN'T BE IN THIS TUBE!!!"

Pictures finished for the moment, they push her all the way through, but by now she's a nervous wreck. They tell her the first set of pictures will be 10 minutes; lie perfectly still breathing normally, being careful not to move her arms or chest. What seems like 3 hours later they inject the medicine into her vein so they can see how her heart functions under stress.

So Meme says "Will I feel it?". A new voice answers "You may feel a small rush, but it will be gone in a couple of minutes". Okay, not so bad ... Meme was a young girl in NY in the 70's, a small rush could be a good thing, even better than meditating.

"Small rush"???? Ha! I don't think so! Meme says she felt a sudden surge like she'd never felt before, her heart beating fast but more than that ... an alien force seemed to go through her entire body ... almost felt like she would explode. So she said "I'm not liking this a whole lot". Her doctor was there to soothe her, saying it was all okay, that she and the others were there to "guard" her. Guard her!!!???? Why oh why, she thought, do I need guards???

Thankfully she read only later that in the rarest of circumstances it's possible one could experience a heart attack or other "complication" during the test. Terrific. She didn't. She survived. And because of the inconvenience of the long wait, they gave her a Starbucks gift card for $10!!! Pretty nice. That should cover a tasty mocha latte enchilada at the very least.

She was barely able to walk out of there she was so hungry, so longing for caffeine and a really delicious treat. She managed to get behind the wheel and drive about a mile to the nearest Starbucks where she had a good strong cup of Joe along with a yummy chocolate chip coffee cake (not a drop for me...go figure).

She sat in her car just feeling so good to have it over. So she popped over to Panera's for a couple of scones to take home and an asiago cheese bagel to wash down the chocolate chip coffee cake. I know!!! Go for a stress test to check if your arteries are flowing free and then load those same arteries down with plaque!!! But I don't get to tell Meme what to do.

Here's my conclusion, though. Beware of tests. I've had them and I know. They tell you there's nothing to it, done in a jiffy, it won't hurt or only a mild "discomfort". But it's just not true. Even the tests are the pits and I think that oftentimes things are better just left alone. Let the body do its thing and when your time's up, it's up. We live too darned long anyway and something's gotta getcha at some point. The main thing we need to do is hope it's quick. Pray for quick.

Yeah, okay, so maybe you disagree. That's okay. All I know is Meme came home from lying on a table for 30 minutes and to hear her tell it you would think she'd run like a gazelle to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro. She lasted about an hour before lying down and falling into a blissful sleep, leaving me all on my own to tell you her story, even typing it out myself here.

The moral according to me? Ask for only the most basic of information before going in for any testing if you're going to do it at all because reading everything on google is going to make you crazy. If you're over 65 skip the tests unless you're actually sick. Believe me, they'll test you for everything if you let 'em. Chances are you're fine and you'll give up half your day for nothing ... someone will make a lot of money and it won't be you.

But what do I know? I'm just a little white dog.

'Til Next Time ...
Molly