Bella for Dogkisses

Hello, Dear Readers!

I’ve been blessed with a dog!  Her name is Bella.  She’s a beauty and sweet as strawberry pie.

Bella is a small dog with long legs.  She weighs all of 15 pounds.  Some days, 15 and a half!  Yet, for such a little girl, she sure fills my heart with love.

My most recent post was a long time ago.  I had a wonderful dog then too, named Roscoe.  He had to go live with a new family.

Roscoe is doing great in his new home.  He moved to the coast, where he lives with a terrific family and three other dogs. 

Roscoe’s new parents have a designated room, a pantry they call it, for dog treats.  That says a lot.  Roscoe has a good life.

After more than a year without dog hairs in my home or the sound of paws prancing on the floors, I started to wonder if I would ever get another dog.

Eventually, I started looking at photos online.  Late nights, when I couldn’t sleep, I’d scroll through what seemed like and probably was, thousands of photos.

I heard about Bella before I saw her.  I knew in my heart that I’d probably adopt her the first time I heard her name and I was right.  

Bella was in a training program, A New Leash on Life, in Spindale, North Carolina.  She lived with her trainer, an inmate at a minimum security correctional facility.  

Puppy Bella 

Sometimes, I tell her about Roscoe or one of her other predecessors.  Mostly, Bella and I have our own unique experiences and adventures together. 

I love her to peices, of course.  I’m very proud of Bella too.  She sits like she’s been to the finest training school in the world.  Maybe she has! 

Bella goes everywhere with me.  She makes people smile and laugh pretty much every time we venture out into the world together. 

Bella’s trainer taught her to dance.  He taught her a lot, such as how to jump through hoops and the important skills too, like how to heel, sit, and stay. 

Bella is my emotional supoort animal (ESA), but she’s also a Therapy dog.  She won a blue ribbon!  She loves and I mean loves making people happy!  I adore this about Bella.  

Ms. Bella

I needed this dog.  She’s my best friend and makes me hope for a long life together.  

Thank you for visiting “Dogkisses.”  

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In Memory of the Sweetest Dog in the World

In Loving Memory of Ruthie Mae

I knew every day for almost ten years that I was lucky to have Ruthie Mae as my friend, and to be loved dearly and tenderly by the sweetest dog in the world.  We were the very best of friends.

Ruthie Mae passed on the first day of Spring 2015.

I’m Ruthie! A Beautiful Dog! I’m Nine Years Old!

Farewell my beautiful friend!  I shall forever be the incredibly lucky person who was loved by you!

Ruthie’s Human Mom,

Michelle.

 

Post Script:

Ruthie had a type of vascular cancer that commonly doesn’t present symptoms until the disease has progressed.  She became severely weak and shortly afterward, at the veterinary hospital, she passed peacefully.

Thank you for visiting this blog, dogkisses, named after Ms. Ruthie Mae.

 

She’s the Sweetest

RUTHIE

We walked down the corridor in the shelter for the second time. 

“Look at this one,” my friend curiously remarked.

She was the only dog not barking.  

We stopped to look, which is all I had planned on doing that day. 

“Oh,” my friend added.  “Her name is Ruthie.  How sweet.”

What an odd name for a dog, I thought to myself.

Ruthie.

Most dogs have exotic or quirky and whimsical names these days, it seems, but Ruthie is such a simple name, you know?

She put her paw up against the cage.  I touched it and so did my friend.

“She has puppy paws!” my friend exclaimed excitedly. 

My friend, Tiffany, was a dog whisperer in her own way.  Actually, she was more like a dog’s angel.  I was never sure whose side she was on when it came to her helping people and their beloved pets, a career which she had temporarily chosen.

“What do you mean puppy paws?” I asked.

“They’re soft!  Touch them,” Tiffany answered.

I’m pretty sure Ruthie became my dog the second I touched her paw and it was unusually soft!

“You should change her name,” the little boy who lived across the street from us told me the first day I took Ruthie out for a walk.

“Yeah!” agreed his young playmates.

“To what?” I asked, but none had an answer.

The children walked closer to us.  They tried petting Ruthie, but she became frightened by the youngest one.

She had been adopted for two weeks and returned to the shelter before I met her.  The shelter staff said the family had a toddler who was allergic to her.  That’s all they could tell me about her past.

Ruthie was indeed shedding a lot, but my gut told me it was from stress.  I was right too. 

After several days of living with me, she started to shine and I discovered, I had the softest dog in the world!  Everyone said so too.

I didn’t yet know she is also the sweetest, but I tell you, there isn’t one any sweeter than Ruthie is.

For the first few days of our lives together, her name came up for consideration.  Mostly because people remarked on how it wasn’t snazzy enough.

I forgot who it was, but somebody suggested that I read from the Book of Ruth in the Christian Bible. 

“In Ruth 1:16 and 17 Ruth tells Naomi, her Israelite mother in law, “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried.”  (SOURCE: Wikipedia).

I read the story and I knew my girl had the perfect name.

Ruth was loyal to Naomi, even after her husband, Naomi’s son, died.  Naomi had lost her husband and later lost her other son, leaving her widowed and without children. 

According to the law of the land, Ruth could have left for a better life, but instead she chose to stay with Naomi.  She married again and gave Naomi a grandson.

How could I think of changing little Ruthie’s name after reading that!  I had been given a gift, I believed. 

In the spirit of dogs and the love they give, my gift was a new dog.

I needed rescuing and I fully embraced the love from my new four-legged friend who had come to save my life.

After taking Ruthie to the dog store to show her off and buy a pretty new collar, we went home and I looked over her papers from the shelter.

I was surprised to see that Ruthie’s overall grade was an A-.

How could such a sweet loving dog not get an A, I wondered, so I read on.

“Ruthie pulls back when people lean in toward her,” the report read.

To get an A, a dog must also lean in when strange humans try to pet them, which I found curious.  I mean, if I had been abused, and I could tell that Ruthie had, then I wouldn’t lean in when strangers come toward me either.

I knew I had a smart dog!

Ruthie in her element hunting insects!

Without Ruthie Mae, I may not be alive today.

Ruthie didn’t save me from a burning building.  I’m not blind.  I have both legs, which I’m grateful for, and both arms too.  I am not in a wheelchair.

I am disabled by illnesses most people can’t see with their eyes. 

These illnesses have changed my life, and me.  I spend more time alone than I did before I got sick. 

I’ve also experienced significant loss of connection and sense of belonging, both in community and family, as a direct result of disability.  I lost my career and many people have judged me for what they can’t see or understand. 

Ruthie is my medical companion animal.  She’s officially an emotional support dog.   

Ruthie gets me outside.

She helps me want to keep going when chronic illness takes away my hope.

Ruthie is a teacher, like all dogs, I believe.  She shows me what love looks like. 

She teaches me compassion, tenderness and acceptance. 

It’s hard to put into words what all Ruthie means to me and how she helps me live.

Ruthie Mae’s love and companionship is always there for me.  No matter how sick I get, she loves me.  I don’t have to put on a well face for Ruthie.

Just yesterday, I was sad.  Ruthie jumped up on the bed and put her little paws across my ankles.  She gently laid her head on my leg.

“You really are the sweetest dog in the world,” I told her.  The tears stopped and I couldn’t help but take joy from the love I felt.

I thought about the kind of life she could have had if she had been adopted by a healthier person and one who has more money than I do.  I imagined her running in an open field of grass with her pack.  Then, I remembered the story of Ruth. 

Perhaps if Ruthie could choose, I imagined, she might choose me over anyone else, no matter what they had to offer her.

One thing I know.  I am loved. 

Ruthie Mae’s Human Mom,
Michelle.

Thanks for visiting my blog!

Note:

This post is a follow up from the most recent one, “Help the Sweetest Dog in the World.” 

Thanks for reading, and if your heart moves you, please visit my campaign page here.

 

Green Healing ~ Tiny Light

I am a tiny yellow flower!  I bloom now and again.  I live in a small clay pot and have two close neighbors.  They also live in clay.  One is a miniature rosebush.  She blooms tiny yellow flowers like me!

My other neighbor hasn’t bloomed yet.  We don’t know the plant’s family origin, but it has interesting rounded leaves that offer me a bit of shade.

We are a nice little community on the west side of a plant-lover’s deck.  We like our home and the clay that holds our roots together.

Our caretaker loves each of us, but I suspect she has a soft spot for me.  Her mother told her that I was, “just a weed,” and suggested that she, “pull me up.”  Obviously, this advice wasn’t taken and she let me grow.

Well, one day, I bloomed!  Our plant-loving caretaker was so surprised that she called her mother to tell of my appearance.

“Oh, Mother!” I heard her say.  “You should see how beautiful the little flower is!  It’s a lovely soft yellow and only last one day!”

I was proud to be talked about in such a grand way!  I started blooming more and more.  I love being a flower so appreciated and enjoyed.  My caretaker says I’m part of a Green Healing journey she’s on in life.  That makes me very special to her.

My name is unknown to me and my plant-loving caretaker, but that doesn’t matter.  I am an awesome tiny light; a soft bright spot on the west side of a lively deck!

Thank you for visiting dogkisses!

Ruthie Mae’s Birthdays

My Companion Smiling

My sweet dog, Ruthie Mae, will have two birthday celebrations this year.  We recently enjoyed the first one, but at the end of the day, I realized her true birthday is most likely in early November.  As you can see from the photo (above), Ruthie was having fun.

We went to the awesome dog food and supply store, where people are only allowed inside because we must pay for our goods.

Ruthie’s favorite treat is a meat chew called a, “Bully Stick.”  The store stocks these chewy treasures in bins exactly the height of an average size dog’s nose.  I’m glad they don’t put the really big (and expensive) ones in those bins!

The dog park is on our way home from town so we stopped in, but it was late in the evening by then, so there was only one dog and he wasn’t social.  Darkness had set in and we went home.

I was happy to have accidentally celebrated with Ruthie.  We both needed time for fun and joy.  I’m excited to celebrate again in Fall.

Thank you for visiting my dogkisses blog.  My apologies for not being able to write more often.  Life is challenging me in several ways lately, but I am managing to have a little fun once in a while.  I hope to get my writing groove back before the year is over.

Here is a link to my other blog, Green Healing Notes, where I posted a photo of a pretty butterfly I saw a few days ago.

 

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Thank You, Tiny.

Returning to Nature

Before you go, I want to tell you how grateful I am to have known you.  I want to say thank you, my four-legged friend.

Thank you for being such a dear loyal friend to my son.  Thank you for communicating with me during times when he, and you, needed me.  Thank you for loving him.

Thank you for your tremendous patience.  You’ve lived a life of many stories, my dear friend, and I will never forget them.  I will never forget you.

I will however remember the fun times, because my girl Free, who lives where you are going, taught me this is the best way to let a beloved Dog go to, “The place that’s the best,” with, “The Spirits in the Sky.”

Thank you for loving my son, especially when he wasn’t well.  Thank you for always thinking of him, letting him know you loved him, no matter how far away you were from each other.  Thank you so much!

Thank you for making people laugh with your playful antics.  Thank you for sticking by us through thick and thin.  Truly, you have, and I am in tremendous gratitude.

Thank you for never biting anyone.  You scared me a few times, but it is best that you didn’t act on your instincts, even though they were correct and the people may have indeed deserved a nip, or two.

Tiny, thank you for loving me.  I wasn’t sure if you would like living with me, but you did,  I could always tell. 

I know you feel closest to my son and I love you for that, but when he wasn’t here, I always felt proud that you followed me around, watched out for me and slept at the end of my feet.  You were such a great little, “Foot-Feller.”

Tiny, I will always love you.  Always.  You will live in my heart because there is a place in it shaped exactly like you.

I’d also like to say thank you for loving my girl.  She was afraid of so much when she first left that stinky shelter and came to live with me.  She sure wasn’t scared of you! 

I’ll never forget what it looked like to see two dogs fall crazy in-love with each other.  I did and it was beautiful.  My new girl’s eyes widened big and her mouth literally dropped open when you walked in our door.  She was stunned!  It was so funny.  I could see the love she felt for you!  It was amazing.

Thank you for always treating her like a Princess.  She thinks she is one now, I guess.

She sure has been a good nurse hasn’t she?  Boy, I’ll have to do something really special for her, like take her for a walk where she can pretend she’s hunting squirrels.

She will miss you Tiny.  We all will.  I will give her lots of hugs and extra love.

I promise, per your only request of me during the past few months, to be here for your true Master.  He is my son and you know I love him with all my heart and soul.  I’m honored that you asked and very grateful that I heard.

I will do the best I can to keep my head up.  I know I got pretty sad when the Vet told me you had cancer.  I did and I have cried a lot, but I promise I’ll be okay.  I may cry for a while, but you know me Tiny.  I do cry.

I will help your best friend get another four-legged companion when the time is right.  I promise.

Thank you, Tiny.  You are the most amazing boy dog I have ever known and loved.  You are my grand-dog!  Thank you for being my friend and sweet foot-feller.

I could say a lot more.  I could.  I could thank you for all the times you’ve been there for us, but I must stop writing.  I want to come lie down beside you.  I guess, it is our last night together.

We will go to the Vet tomorrow.  We will go.

Thank You, Tiny.

We Love You Forever!

Photos of Tiny in this post.

A wise chew…

I knew I didn’t have much time left when I spotted it on her sparkling clean desk.  A pen was lying on top of it.  I’d seen her use it many times crossing off things she thought she needed to do.

As soon as she left, I’d inspected the place.  I had to search more than usual after all those hours she spent cleaning, but there were still a few things I could chew. 

There were some shoes, one of which smelled pretty good and a tennis ball that I had hidden under the sofa months earlier.

It had to be something different this time.  Something that would definitely make her stop and think. 

She had worked and worked and worked.  I had waited and waited and waited!

I put my front legs on the chair and swept the list off the table with my muzzle.  Perfect!

I thought for a second, maybe two, was it going to be a good chew?  How would I know if I didn’t try?

More importantly than a good chew, I had to save my human mistress from a time warp of never-ending indoor chores!

I would have to choose my chew wisely.  I can get away with just about anything.   She loves me a whole bunch! 

As far as things to chew, it was rather tasteless and boring, but that didn’t stop me.

I chewed the paper into as many pieces as possible.  I spit out the remains, which created a tidy, but easily visible thick pile on the floor.

I didn’t have time to jump up in my chair when I heard the car pulling into the driveway.  I lied down, pretending to be asleep.

She opened the door carrying as many groceries as she could.  She was always doing more than she should.  She put the bags on the counter and shut the door.

“Hi Free! I’m finally home,” she said.

I didn’t move. I waited.

“What are you doing lying there like that?” she asked.  She put away the groceries.  Normally, I would have greeted her at the door.

She walked over to check on me.  She looked around to see if I had damaged anything.  I’ve had to in the past to get her attention, but not in a long time and only as a last resort.

Finally, she spotted my work.  She picked up a few pieces of the paper.  What had been words were now little blotches of ink.

She looked perplexed.  She glanced at her tidy little desk and then back to the floor.  Leaning over, she inspected the small pieces of paper again.

She’s a little slow, but she soon realized that it was true.

Of all the things to chew, it was her list if things to do!

I saw a glitter in her eyes.  She gave me a great hug and started laughing.

Right away she grabbed my collar and even though I’m Free, she put me on a leash.

She says this protects me from the Momma bear who recently became our neighbor.  I’m not afraid of bears like she is, but I admit my powerlessness over my highly sensitive olfaction, as well as my penchant for stealing neighbor-dog toys.

“You’re a funny dog Free,” she said as we set out for our walk to the grassy meadow where I graze and she relaxes on the wide flat rock with a view of the sunset.  “I sure do love you,” she tells me in a way that makes me know I did the right thing.

I am Free.  I’m teaching my human mistress to be a little more like me.

In Memory of Free. “A happy dog” she was always called.

She Lived and Loved from 1993—2006, Forever in my heart and memories.

Taken from my journal, Lessons from Free, May 8, 2006.

Thanks for visiting Dogkisses’s blog!

In all the fog, I write…

The Thunder Beings have roared and a hard rain is falling.  I sure am glad to be home.  I like being home with my dogs during a storm.  I also like knowing that as I write, my family are in safe places.   Shortly, I’ll be snuggling up with my furry family to watch a movie.  I can’t tell you which movie because I forgot the name of it, which brings me to the heart of this blog post.

I basically wanted to say hello to my blogging friends and readers.

I miss my blog.  I especially miss being able to think clearly enough to express myself through writing.

Normally, I can sit down and write ten pages about something and even though it might need editing, I’m able to communicate what is on my mind.  Lately, this is not the case.  I have a lot on my mind, much of which I’d like to write about in this blog, but I am simply too tired.   I’m also in a lot of pain.

I began this post last night and wanted to publish it while the Thunder Beings were here.  I finished it, which amazed me, but I couldn’t keep enough mental energy to tag it or put it in a category.

The Thunder Beings came back tonight just as I sat down in another attempt to write something that makes sense.  Another hard rain fell.

I don’t know who came up with the term, “brain fog,” but the condition is well understood by those of us who have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and/or fibromyalgia.

Brain fog attempts to describe a medical mental fatigue that robs us of our normal cognitive skills and abilities.  For the past six months I’ve battled this fog consistently.  Normally, the condition isn’t this persistent and instead comes and goes, giving me times when I can still think.

Writing is hard when this is happening and I usually don’t even try.  I forget my words and have to use the dictionary constantly.  I can’t spell words I’ve spelled since elementary school.  My sentences are choppy and things aren’t flowing.

Brain fog can make a person nearly incapable of verbal responses.  It can have an effect on a person’s speech.  Words might get disordered in a sentence or we use a word that sounds like the one we are intending to say.

I know the words I’m looking for when I lose them.  I can describe the meaning, sometimes the sound or the first letter.  Written words I’ve known since I was a child look unfamiliar.

Mostly I’m tired and sleepy, but I can’t stay asleep long enough for my body to restore itself.  I’m half awake and half asleep.  It isn’t a good place to act from.

My body is as tired as my brain is.  Moving around is hard.  Bending over takes tremendous energy.  I can’t keep up with my chores and that stresses me out.

I’ve missed deadlines.  Many of my obligations in life are compromised.  I don’t get to go visit my family.  I’m also getting a bit confused and my short-term memory is shot.

The fatigue alone is completely overwhelming.  Add to that widespread ongoing pain in the nerves, muscles and deep in the bones and it is one mighty difficult condition!

Life goes on though.  It doesn’t stop for me to be sick or it seems, for me to get proper rest, but then maybe I don’t know how to rest.  Maybe I forgot.

Much of the time, I feel stressed.

I have an adult son, whom I love with all my heart.  He has challenges that I haven’t learned how to accept in a way that doesn’t cause me grief and anxiety.  I believe that accepting things the way they are is the best place to start when you want to change something, but honestly, I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job at this with mine or my son’s circumstances.

Being unwell causes me to feel like I’m failing my son, the other members in my family, including my dogs and a community.  I can’t say that I have the latter, but if I did belong to a community, where would I fit in I wonder.

When I have brain fog, I don’t feel like I have anything to offer.  I do love my family and friends, so I guess love is the one thing I still have to give, no matter what.

I worry about what is happening in this country.  The cuts in our system are scary to me on a personal level.

Being a disabled American makes me feel like a misfit.  The taxpayer’s enemy.  I represent to some Americans the reason our country is in such bad shape.  Somebody, “living for free.”  A flaw in an otherwise well-functioning system.

The doctor wonders what is depressing me!

Chronic illness impacts my view of myself and the world.  It’s a view that’s been filtered through pain, mental fog and bewildering fatigue, along with a very long decade of chronic stress.

I have the dogs to keep things real.  Plus, of course, I love them and think they’re the greatest little creatures to have ever lived on the planet!

One of my dogs had to go out a little while ago.  I was lying on the sofa.  He came over and sat there beside me, patiently waiting.

I felt like a million pounds of sand was lying on top of my body and it hurt.  After about eight minutes, which seemed like forever, I got up.

Putting his collar on him, I just happened to look at the sofa where I had tried to rest.  I saw the pain.  I saw the fatigue.

I didn’t want to ever lie on that sofa again.  I hurt when I lie down.  For a moment, the difference between the way I felt standing and the way I had felt lying down was somewhat mentally shocking.

I feel some better when I get up, but it isn’t long before I’m completely exhausted and must lie down again.

My dogs continue to be good for my health.  They keep me from never getting off that sofa.  They need me and I need them.

They took me outside after the rain stopped tonight.  I needed a short little walk and some fresh air.  They always know this.

Thanks for visiting Dogkisses’s blog.

Image via drburtoni’s photostream, Flickr.

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