Venting, Whining, or Something

Time to get it all out.

One day recently I found myself sitting in the parking area of a local convenience store. Sort of drinking a recently purchased coffee and watching people kind of morning.

To my right I watched a woman (could have easily been a man, but it was a woman, nonetheless.) Anyway, I watched this woman raise the hood of her elderly Ford POS and start fiddling with the engine and all its internal fun stuff. She had just purchased a can of something and was in the act of pouring it into an engine orifice.

Without any warning (why WOULD there be a warning) the engine area started burning. Nothing major, just your routine engine fire. I am not a fireman, an EMT, or even someone who likes fires. But I grabbed the fire extinguisher out of my trunk and put out the fire while the woman (and I kid you not) backed up against the wall of the store and chewed on her fingernails!

Well, the fire is now out. I get ready to get back in my car and the woman (bless her heart) starts to holler at me. My first impression is, Huh? Then WTH? Apparently my dry chemical fire extinguisher got “dust” all over her engine and into the open orifice.

With that exclamation of thanks, she slammed the hood and drove off at high speed to the interstate and was gone forever from my life. Passersby just shook their heads and went about their business. Some, I think, snickered.

Now the good part. As she was watching the fire and watching me put it out while gnawing her fingernails, I noticed that she had her kid strapped in the backseat. She made no attempt to get the little guy out as the fire burned.

So moral of story: Not only did I get hollered at and got a great big Kiss-My-Ass thankyou from the unknown woman, I had to replace my personal fire extinguisher (30 bucks at K-Mart!).

So, if the unknown woman in the POS Ford who now has a dusty and somewhat darker engine compartment actually reads this, Yes, I would do it all again, for your kid’s sake and certainly not yours. Perhaps instead I would have entered the store and used their extinguisher, but hindsite is always clearer.

Ok. We can move on with our lives. I’m all finished now.

How Come??

How come that a background/credit check for a 20K loan on my house only takes 24 hours? And a background/credit check to buy a new car @ 25K only takes 15 minutes.

But a background/credit check to adopt a $150 dog has taken almost a week of my life away with no relief in sight.

How come??

The Price Of His Life

The Price Of His Life

Ok. It’s been about 5 months since we lost Twister. February 15th at 5:10 PM, to be exact. And I’m still missing him.

But the circumstances of his passing are only known to three of us. His non-furry family.

Some background first.

Twister had cancer. Inoperable cancer. It started in his jaw and before it was over it had completely consumed (sorry, no better word for it) his upper jaw, part of his nose and his right eye. He could hardly eat, but he was a real trooper right up to the end. And only then did he scream out in pain when it became too much to bear. He laid around and couldn’t do anything anymore. He just looked at us all the time. We gave him pain meds, but we knew they only took the edge off.

So now for my dirty little secret. We took Twister to his vet for Euthanasia. We ended his life when he and we could no longer take it. The vet’s office is about 20 miles and 35 minutes away. The longest ride of our life.

We took him late in the day so we would not have to upset any kids who happen to be in the waiting room. My daughter sat in the back seat of the car holding him for the last time. Just like she held him when we brought him home 10 years earlier for the first time. And Twister KNEW where we were going.

When we got him to the vet had to have him weighed. So they knew how much sedative to give him. It is the same drug they use during surgery. Only this time it would be an intentional overdose. I also had to sign a release form saying I was OK-ing the procedure. Like I could ever be OK with it. But it was a legal protection for the vet and I understood it. You should have seen my hand shake.

We took Twister into the same exam room where he had been treated so many times before. Good times. In there he got shots for everything to prevent anything that might harm our Fuzzy Buddy. Everything but cancer.

Now this was his last time on the table. Our vet is a good Christian man and his assistants were extremely sensitive to our pain. They all gave us about 10 minutes to say Goodbye to Twister.

Dear, God, all three of us cried like babies in that room by ourselves.

We held Twister. We told him we loved him. And we told him would never ever forget him. His fur was damp with our tears after that last goodbye.

Our vet came in and we all held him during the injection. A final goodbye.
And then it was over. He just stopped breathing. His pain was forever over.

Ours had only just begun.

The second hardest thing we had to do this dark night was leave him there in the exam room. As I left I thanked the entire staff for their compassion for us and Twister.

And then I had to pay the vet for their services.

The charge was $95.00.

For the shot and the cremation.

And then, because he had to and it was policy, he asked me if I wanted a receipt.

The price of my Twister’s life was $95.00.

I started crying all over again.

We came to the vet with a live dog and left without one. There were four of us in the car when we arrived and three of us drove home. The longest drive I have EVER taken. Total silence.

The next day we got a call from them asking how we were doing. I will never forget their compassion. This was more than just a job for them. They, also being animal lovers and especially Twister lovers, actually cared for him and for us. A rare thing in this world these days.

Twister was a rescue dog. We saved him from destruction as a puppy only to lose him to our own hand 10 years later. The irony of it still haunts me 5 months later. This is why I took pictures of Twister up close and personal of his cancer so I would KNOW why I did it. I would KNOW how much pain he was in. I would KNOW that I could look at them and “know” that I had done the “right thing”.

We will get another dog. We are, of course, looking at rescue pups. We could have it no other way. We need them more than they need us. And they need us. People who say they are just animals, they have no feelings and they are incapable of love, are of no interest to me whatsoever. I don’t personally give a damn what they think.

I am writing this with tears in my eyes. I have also delayed writing this because a wonderful friend on Flickr has just lost her Mom to cancer. She knows who she is and may even read these words. If I have harmed or hurt her, I am forever sorry from the bottom of my heart for putting these feeling into words in an untimely fashion.

You can actually go to my photostream on Flickr and see the final photo I took when we brought home his empty collar. We could never leave it. Cut and paste this link http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtanner/4359640925/
to see this picture.

Thanks to anyone who has read this and stayed with me this far. If you have ever loved a pet then maybe you understand what I am desperately trying to say here.

And finally, in the words of Paul Simon, “If I had never loved I never would have cried”.

Jeff

I Think It’s Time To Scream!

If our dog Twister spends one more night in my arms, sitting there quietly looking at me with that “Please Save Me!” look in his eyes, I think I’ll SCREAM!

All of his life he has been non-judgemental and always there for us by our side 24/7. Now that he is dying and in pain, he looks to me to save him.

I can’t.

All I can do is hold him and give him meds when it looks or sounds like he needs them.

During our private talks together he has promised that when “the time” comes he will let me know. That moment has not yet come. But like a distant storm it approaches quickly.

WTH, I think I’ll scream anyway.

The Alarm Clock

     Our alarm clock—a cherished and beloved heirloom that has been passed down from generation to generation

in our family and now resides proudly perched on a nightstand in our bedroom (for it is there that our story takes

place), having, so it seems, forgotten that today was Martin Luther King’s birthday (observed) and that today

was not the usual and normal work day around our home because, when 5:30 AM (or 0530 for you aficionados of

military time out there) came at its usual time 5 ½ hours past midnight with the clock expecting us greet the day

with our usual and customary smiles upon arising—went off by mistake.

Goodbye

Last night I was in my driveway, preparing to leave home for an important appointment.   It was about 5:00 PM, the sun had set, and the evening sky was in early dusk.   A movement just west of my house on the highway caught my eye.   About 300 feet away in the center of the road something stood.   Just stood, not moving.   It looked to be about the size of a small deer or large dog.   But it wouldn’t or couldn’t move.   I looked at it for several seconds before everything would change.

Heading west, a car left town at a high rate of speed, easily in excess of 60 MPH.   A normal occurrence for this part of town because the city limits begin and endsat my driveway in a 35 MPH zone.   The lights of the car caught the figure as it stood, still not moving.   I assumed that the car would slow down, swerve, honk, or something.    Anything.   I assumed very wrong.   The next moment I heard this loud thump that was accompanied by a high-pitched animal scream.   Whatever was standing on the center line had now been thrown high into the air above the car and into the ditch on the south side of the road.   At the point of impact I saw car parts and what appeared to be water exploding in the car’s headlights.   Again, the car never stopped, never slowed down or swerved to miss the creature.   This driver must  also have had a real important appointment they couldn’t miss.

For a few moments I just stood there stunned.   The tail lights of the car had almost disappeared down the road.   There was just me, the silence and the empty road.   I figured there was no hurry now so I got into my car and drove the short distance to where I had seen this happen and parked on the side the road.   Nothing could have survived that impact and lived.   As I opened my trunk to get a flash light I heard this low and pain-filled moan come from the opposite side of the road.   I walked across through the broken car pieces and peered down into the deep ditch.

At the bottom lay a brown female dog.   About half of her lay in the water with her head and shoulders resting on the far bank and the rest of her body submerged in 3 feet of water remaining in the ditch from yesterday’s rain.   She had no collar and appeared to be dead.   As I shined my light on her she suddenly opened her eyes.   Her breath started coming in sharp rattles and blood flowed slowly and freely from her mouth and nose.

And then she looked up at me.   She just looked up at me.   No more noise or groans of pain.   She just looked at me.

We both seemed to know she was dying.   I found myself talking to her.   And I kept saying  “I’m so sorry.   I’m so sorry.   I’m so sorry.”   Over and over again. 

And she just kept looking up at me.

But why was I so sorry?   I hadn’t been the one to hit her with my car.   Maybe it was because I couldn’t do anything for her. Even if I could climb down into the ditch in the dark and carry her out, I may just get bitten for my trouble when she misunderstood my motives as I tried to move her.   And then she was, after all, someone else’s dog.  A stranger to me.

I was angry with myself for ever having that thought.   And should I actually be able to get her out, then what?   Take her where?   Do what with her?

 Finally she closed her eyes. Her breathing now slower and still labored.   One last time I told her how sorry I was and turned to leave.   Leave to go to my important appointment.

I returned to the accident site several hours later.   An hour or so after my oh-so-important appointment.   It was now completely dark out with just the full moon casting eerie shadows on the road and fields.   I parked in the same place as I had earlier that evening and walked back across the road.   It was now free of car-part litter; having been scattered and crushed by passing traffic.

I shined my light back down into the ditch thinking I would know exactly what I expected to see.

 Great.

What I saw made an already bad thing even worse.   The dog was now completely submerged face down in the water.   There were marks on the far bank where she had made one last effort to remain upright and try to climb out of the water and up the side.   There was a tint of red staining the water all around her body.   It had ended for her, but not peacefully, quickly or painlessly.

She had drowned.

Too-late tears now came freely for me.  I told her again I was sorry.   And I told her goodbye again.   For the second time. And for the final time.

 I wondered about a lot of things after that.   I wondered if she had been mine would anybody have cared or even done what little that I did.   My only contribution seemed to be some softly spoken and empty words to a dying animal.   I thought about her pain, the sound of the impact, her dying groans that I can hear in my mind even now hours later.   I had now distanced myself from what I had seen by calling her just an animal and not a dog or at least someone’s pet.   I was angry with myself for that.  I have, after all and for all my life,  prided myself as being “dog people”.

I also found myself angry at the driver of the car.   In such a hurry to get somewhere else.   He wouldn’t even take the time to stop to see what he had run over.   Or even worse.   He knew what they had run over and didn’t care.   I took some small consolation in knowing that there had been several hundred dollars damage to his car.   A rather small and petty thought, I had to agree.   But at least he could have stopped. Or at least slowed down.

And I wondered what I would do in the morning.    There would be a need for proper and respectful removal of the dog from the ditch.   At the very least she deserves this final gesture from the species that took her life.

 So I will call my neighbor in the morning.    My neighbor is genuine Dog People.   He will take care of it.    I know he will.

The next day I did and he did.  In an effort to make me feel better he said that he had a hard time reaching the dog in the in the ditch in the daylight.  

Sorry neighbor.  It’s going to take more than that.

Anathema

Allow me to take you to a Place.   That Place is only for those Chosen few.   I have seen this Place if only in my dreams.   I have always been a dreamer and I want to share my dream with you now.   I don’t know why just yet, but I just do.   I have been to hell and back lately.   Maybe this is the compensation of the survivor.   This is no story but please enjoy and share it with all who you think would understand. Welcome to a time in the future.   It won’t be in everyone’s future and probably not in mine.   But it could have been.   It was offered to all and rejected by most.   It will be a time of unequaled joy.   A beauty that can only be imagined but never described.   Perfection will reign because the imperfect will be not be allowed.   Sound, sights, smells and feelings will greet you that only you have known.   The sound of your child’s laughter, the sight of your mother’s arms held open wide, the smell of your favorite cookies warm from the oven, the feel of a warm spring breeze across your forehead.   You will have an overwhelming desire to share each and every one of these feelings with all you meet.

Peace will reign supreme once again and you will feel it.   Really FEEL it.   Feel it right down to the essence of what is really you.   Peace with others, peace with yourself.   You will be able to see all whom you meet as they were truly intended to be. Your vision will not be clouded over by a prejudice, hindered by a selfish or poisoned by an evil thought.

You will know all whom you see and call them by name.   There are no strangers here.   Even the little ones, the children who were never whole and complete people on this earth.   They are now everything they could have been, should have been, had not this world and all that is wrong with it kept them from attaining it.

 There will be no more sickness and pain.   You will never tire, your vision will never again cloud over.   Every movement will greatly exceed the grace and agility of even the best-trained athlete.   Disease will not be welcome here.   It will not even be known.   All past memories of pain and suffering will be gone forever.   Death, Man’s ever-present foe, will at last be vanquished.   It’s thieving hand will be crushed.   It’s back broken.   It’s horrible smell gone forever.   Darkness, that old ally of loneliness, will never be heard from again.   Never again will it exist because of the Light that will shine from One Place, from every place.   Crippling loneliness will be replaced by the feeling of being needed, being wanted, and above all, being loved.       Those around you will know you, need you, help you, want you, love you.   You are completely at one with everyone.   You know their names and they know yours.   All you meet have known you forever.

Last of all there will be no more evil.   Those horrible thoughts that held us, tempted us, even at times tried to destroy us, they are now gone.   Our past lives with their mistakes and shortcomings, our lies and deceits, are far behind now.   All sin has been cast into the sea of forgiveness.   Once again there is wholeness where there was only emptiness and sorrow.   As it should have been.   As it could always have been.   We can at last behold the perfection that is in Heaven without being destroyed by it.   We are finally as we were intended to be from the beginnings of time.   We are at one with the Creator.

And there is joy in Heaven at last.