January 24th, 2010

Christmas 1993

This is my sweet adorable Bailey, my special little guy who owned my heart and soul for almost 17 years, from the first moment I brought him home when he was 6 weeks old until he died in my husband's arms.

He was a cockapoo, half cocker spaniel and half poodle, and he was so little when he was a baby that he looked like a little peanut and the name stuck so mostly we called him "The Peen." He only weighed 13 lbs. so he was little enough to go everywhere with me in his Sherpa bag, and he had perfect manners, so he did. He went to work with me everyday, and he was on more airplanes than most people, and he loved to run errands and go shopping with me to places like Home Depot and Target and department stores where people ooohed and aaahed over him. But he went everywhere else too, and I mean everywhere. We snuck him into hotels and restaurants and movie theatres and concerts and college graduations, and believe it or not, I even took him with me on a 3-day jury trial and no one ever knew. Think that was a first?

Bailey was special. I never knew another dog who had such a fun interesting life and went as many places as Bailey did, and I never saw another little dog who looked like him. In fact, just for kicks, I entered him in the 2005 Nuts for Mutts Dog Show and out of hundreds of dogs, Bailey took first place... a blue ribbon!... for being the cutest dog in the Small Breed category. Yes, Bailey was special.

Well, now it's January 24th, 2010 as I write this, and it's been 9 months since Bailey died, and it's only now that I've felt like updating my website because I knew I'd have to update Bailey's page too. I've really been over the crushing weight of missing him for months and I thought I could update my website and write about him without crying but I was wrong, the gentle tears started coming as soon as I started writing. I never cry when I think about him anymore so this must be the the last sort of cleansing of the unbearable pain in my heart. I have a feeling that after I finish writing this, the very last remnants of the lump in my throat when I think about him will be finally be gone. I hope so.

I learned a lot about myself in the first few months after Bailey died and I kept a journal because I knew that time would smooth the sharp edges of my memory and I didn't want to forget those moments. Now, reading those pages, I realize that it's not the details that I want to remember but the concepts of owning and loving and losing a dog that are most important. Here are some of my thoughts...

Bailey and I were rarely apart and while I cherish every moment we had together, I look back and realize how unnatural that type of relationship is. Bailey was like my child, but with human children, they have babysitters and they grow up and go to school and you do things without them. Bailey and I didn't live that way. We did everything together. We were so close that I knew what he was thinking and he knew what I was thinking. It was wonderful. But when I no longer had my little guy around, half of my "self" was gone and it was nearly impossible to function. Even in my deepest moments of grief, I realized how unnatural this was and how unhealthy this was. And I promised myself, if I ever had another dog, I would never let it happen again.

I realized just how MUCH it means to have such wonderful friends and family around me. My husband works in Asia so I was alone much of the time after Bailey died. After the first week or so, I did get on with all the day to day stuff you do so of course I ran into all of my friends, and my neighbors who are also some of my very best friends, and I was surrounded by people who loved and knew Bailey and who loved me too. They held me and cried with me and helped me through each day. I truly don't know how I could have healed without them.

I'd always heard how important it is to get moving and do things. Yes, you do have to get out of bed and eat and do the day to day things you have to do. But I get up an hour early every morning so that I can begin my day with my first cup of coffee in bed with my Augie kitty nestled in my lap. And we do the same thing every night when I have a cup of tea. After Bailey was gone, Augie and I did this often during the day as well, just sitting together in peaceful silence while I healed. She reminded me how much she loves me, and taught me that sitting and enjoying the moment is as much a part of healing as activity.

And you know how you hear that the best thing you can do is get another dog? Believe me when I tell you that is NOT necessarily true. Bill had heard the same thing, and he thought taking care of a puppy would be so all-consuming that I wouldn't have time to miss Bailey, so 3 days later, in my sleep-deprived, grief-impaired state of mind, I let Bill sign the papers for a 10-week-old cockapoo puppy. As we drove home, holding this little bundle of fur in my arms, I kept saying to myself, "I'm still heartbroken over my sweet little Bailey. How can I possibly love another puppy that I don't even want?" Well, I didn't love her. In fact, I hated her. Andi was nothing like Bailey. Where Bailey had been the perfect little guy from the first day I brought him home, Andi, a few days after I brought her home, became wild and crazy and energetic and into everything, and if she wasn't eating rocks she was pruning my hedges or pulling up my ferns or tearing up my rugs or peeing on my brand new wood floors or terrorizing my kitty. She wasn't like Bailey at all and I hated her. Of course, with Bill being in Asia, it wasn't long before Andi and I bonded. But in those first few weeks I hated her and worse, I hated my husband. Really. I hated him. I felt he took advantage of my grief and it took a long time to get past this. So believe me when I tell you... going out and getting another dog right away is NOT necessarily the right thing to do. In fact it's probably one of the reasons there are so many dogs in animal shelters.

I don't know how long Andi and I were together, with me alternately loving and mostly hating her, but one day I had an "ah ha" moment. I looked at her and said, "Why are you so crazy and out of control every waking moment???" And suddenly it dawned on me that she was just... plain... happy. Like all other puppies, she'd spent her first weeks with her mother and the other puppies in a crate or in a very confined area. Then I brought her home and she said, "Oh look! Look at this yard and look at the grass and the bushes and all the flowers that I can tear up! Is that what they are? Flowers? I've never SEEN flowers before! YUM! And look at this kitty, she RUNS when I chase her! And look at all the FOOD and look at all the TOYS!" When I realized she was just happy, it changed our relationship entirely and little by little I began to love her and channel that happiness into doing things that made ME happy, like learning tricks and learning manners and learning to enjoy life a little more calmly. I've had lots of dogs all my life but it took this wild crazy little puppy to teach me that happiness comes in all forms, and that every new day is a reason to be not just happy but EXHUBERANT because you never know what's around the corner!

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