and then, there were three

That's the remark BG made as we pulled out of the driveway with Sam, Oscar and Ryder all chasing and playing and wondering where Faith was. At the moment, there are two very sad people out in the pine grove digging a hole next to Butterbean, this onc twice the size to hold our big sweet pretty brown girl and her box. Her "daddy" our former roomie is helping with the whole deal because he raised her too. Many years ago when she was learning the art of riding in a truck bed, he managed to drop her on her head in the middle of Lake Road, our 'burg's busiest street. She bounced right back up and never did much like truck beds that much again. Like the lady that we was, she preferred sitting in the back seat with her head hanging out in the wind.

She was about nine weeks old when she came to live with us and I will never forget the pics that my brother and sister-in-law took of her sweet puppy face sitting on my front porch swing. I had a friend with a four wheeler and a chocolate male who was definitely her first love, and we would ride for miles through bean fields with those two chasing behind, stopping occasionally to wait on them to catch up and eat the dust. She lived a good life...every dog's dream. She ran and played for many years until arthritis slowed her down and Rimadyl became a necessity. When she got pregnant for the first time at the ripe old age of ten, we were floored. That delivery in February was probably the beginning of the pyometra and ultimately caused her death. We put out a lot of money, still owed, to pay for a surgery that gave us a few weeks to tell her goodbye. More than once I mentioned that to BG and how Ryder is her gift to us...a living breathing part of her pretty girl self. She got mad at me for being negative, but I could see the writing on the wall.

She had taken the new futon as her own since it was of a climbable height and quite comfy. We were all in BG's room chilling and watching TV when we heard a thud and found her on the floor, barely breathing. I cradled her head in my lap as she took a few last breaths and it was over. That's when I began to wail like a banshee for what seemed like EVER. My heart hurts, not just for her but for all of us. As I sobbed into my frail little mother's shoulder today she reminded me that there are "others" coming and she cried as well. That looms constantly, with them just one little break of a bone away from whatever the next step is. We are all exhausted, physically, emotionally and financially. But we've got each other, so it's okay.

Lest all that isn't enough drama, let me tell you about what ELSE happened...I almost went to jail last night because I dared to talk back to some smartass drug task force memeber who gave me ten seconds to get my butt in my own house. Since we've had some thefts lately, there are more patrols out and about in this area. As soon as Faith died, we called our friend and he headed out this way with the box and her collar. He pulled onto the lane and stopped for a minute to check his phone or something and was followed up the hill INTO my driveway by a K-9 unit complete with multiple flashing lights and swat team gear searching his truck. What they found was guns which were in a case in the back, all properly purchased and cared for. I was livid, to say the least. Here we are on the way to dig a hole in the dark to bury our beloved family member and the freakin' COPS show out? Oh.My.God. Another friend had already arrived and she and BG had to make my pissed off tail go in the house. Meanwhile, I'm trying to find somebody to work so that we can have the funeral today and um. Well, that's a whole 'nother story. I think I freaked every ONE of them out. God bless the one who made the trade, because I wouldn't have been worth a dime.

I know that these waves of grief are not all about losing Faith. They are about me letting go of the old ways and opening up for something new and better. Even though my struggles have been menial compared to what some people go through, there have been many layers and I'm just about tapped out. Multiple unresolved issues for long periods of time are not good for an old woman's peace of mind. I keep telling myself that surely I've crashed and burned enough times to be able to just let go of all of it and trust that Big Ernie will take care of me as long as I try. I know...Pollyanna to the bone.