Celebrating my 8th Gotcha Day!

 This is always a special day for us, but this year it was even more so. Since Nicki's DCM diagnosis, I wasn't sure we'd even get to this day. I believe in staying optimistic, but reality will have its way with us.

Nonetheless, we got to celebrate another Gotcha Day - and celebrate we did! All the best special days call for goodies! Nicki went to her favorite place; Bones Dog Bakery!

She enjoyed a little stroll around the neighborhood on her way there. She prefers city walks! Who knew?!There's most likely a greater variety of those all-precious smells!

We knew she just HAD to have a puppacino to celebrate! She got a dognut to enjoy at home, too!

Do I look like I enjoyed my treats or what?!?!?!

  

After all that, Miss Nicki was ready to head home for a nap - but still a happy girl!

Here's hoping for another celebration next year! Paws crossed!

The Return of Chocolate Bunny

 When Nicki first came to us, she didn't know how to play. We didn't know it at the time, but that's common with dogs who are mostly left chained/tied or kept alone in a kennel (I use the word kennel loosely here). It would be two years before we could interest her in toys or playing - and then the gates were flung joyously open. The original post on that is here: An Easter Miracle. For those who want to skip to the "good part", here it is. Miss Nicki, playing for the first time. 

 

 

Of course we knew that toy wouldn't last long! So we went on the hunt for replacements immediately. This is the result:

 

That little chocolate bunny opened a wonderful world for our Nicki. Many toys of all different sizes and shapes followed. To keep things interesting, as other toys filled the house, I put these away to bring them out in rotation from time to time. That was six years ago!! 

Today I checked the back of the closet and found that we still had 2 brand new bunnies left. She hasn't had to do without toys all this time - she just had so many others!! Nonetheless, when she heard the "chocolate" bunny squeak, this was her reaction: 

 

 

It's been a really good day.

Summer Trail Walk

 How about a happy Nicki story? They do still happen. Although things are different now, Nicki still enjoys her walks, albeit shorter. She tires more easily. No more mile plus hikes. That's okay - there's more time to enjoy some smells! I think she may have been a city dog at some point in her earlier life. She really enjoys walking in the city much more than our trail walks. That's okay. Variety!

When we say trail - we mean trail! Blazes and everything!

There's a lovely little bridge at the entrance. Good thing, too! It had been raining for days and the streams were pretty high!

 

Quite a current!

 

 

Smells are like Pokemon - gotta catch 'em all!

Stop and smell the - whatever that is.

Can't eat these - yet!

Okay, Momma. I'm tired now.

Be Here Now

 Dogs are so amazing at living in the moment. If you ever just watched a dog with its eyes closed, nose tilted upward, sniffing the air - that's pure zen. There is absolutely nothing else going on in that moment. That dog is enjoying that particular moment of life.

I talked before about how hard it is to not get my hopes up on Nicki's good days. It's also hard to remember that we're not done yet. I need to remember to try to let her play while she's still here, rather than watch videos of her playing in better times. I have to remember to let the chores go for a bit, and just pet the pupper. You'd think that's a no-brainer, but I think I know what's going on.

I've been extraordinarily lucky to have had two heart dogs. Daisy, my Border Collie, was the girl of my childhood dreams. Sometimes I thought she could read my mind. I have very few good pictures of her. Cell phone cameras were pretty new then, and I didn't have mine with me much of the time. Nonetheless, she was beautiful, smart, a dream dog in every way. Then she aged, became ill, and we eventually lost her. My grief was so bad that my husband actually begged me to look for another dog. That's what led us to Nicki. 

For Daisy, I got a plastic mattress cover and put it on our bed, where she always slept. Then I covered it with her special blanket. When the vet came to our home to help her for one last time, I placed her on her blanket on our bed, and bid her goodbye in the only home she ever knew, with all her people near at hand. Later on, I regretted not having some Reese's cups for her. On that day, she could have had chocolate.After that, there was nothing. Just mourning.

I have a similar plan for Nicki. This time, I have peanut butter cups. And her blog. I'll need to say goodbye to you for her. There will be something more to do. It will hurt {I'm crying as I write this} but there's an after to get to. Something beyond just the empty pain. It's tempting to think ahead to the something after, and skip right over the pain of loss. Of course, that's not how it works.

Her good days are far more muted now. When she first came to us, I had to take in my first deep breath upon waking very carefully. When she heard me breathe in, she'd leap up onto the bed, then lay across my face and head, wiggling on her back with excitement and joy at the prospect of a new day. Sometimes it was difficult to breathe because I was laughing so hard. Now, I usually have to wake her, and she naps a lot during the day. There are still energetic times, but I have to pace her. She wears herself out when she feels well, especially if I ask her to carry on as though everything's fine. It's not fine, but it is okay.

I need to leave those memories as memories and not drag them into the present to compare with the now. I need to let her be where and when and how she is. I need to be here now, with her.