I Have a Patronus and It's -NOT- a Pig

First off, thank you all so much for the love and kindness. I won't, can't, reply to your comments, it's too hard, but thanks to everyone that took a moment to offer support and comfort. It really does mean a lot to me. I miss Haiku so much. I hope no one else has to experience the pain, loss, and emptiness I'm feeling. But I guess that's the price we pay to love anyone else. And I do hope that everyone gets to experience the love, joy, and happiness that little dog brought to me. Life. Weird. Complicated. Worth it.

Truby and I are starting to have adventures again! It's still quite warm here, upper 90s, but the mornings are cool, and soon prime riding weather will be here. But today I want to share something almost magical that happened earlier this week.

I've been grieving for Haiku, obviously, and it's been hit or miss as too how well I've been handling that. The shock has worn off, and it's time to deal with feelings. It's the worst. I was kinda doing okay, but then Sunday I started doing poorly. Really yucky in the headspace. Anyone that's dealt with depression or other mental health issues probably knows the feeling. My thoughts keep chasing each other around. All negative. All hurtful. All angry and unhappy. Should I manage to redirect off one train of thought, I just latched on to another equally gross feeling. I couldn't get out of it, and Monday it just got worse. My brain was a swirling cesspool of miserable thoughts and feelings. Not just of loss, but everything I could throw in there. I couldn't escape it. I began to resign myself to many days of misery.

I woke up early Tuesday morning, about 3 am. No reason, just couldn't sleep. I went out to the living room to waste time on the internets until I either fell asleep, or it was late enough to get up and do something. I was bitter about my insomnia. Bad enough to have such a nasty mental state, and now I couldn't even sleep through it.

Just before 4 am, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I assumed it was someone walking their large dog past the apartment. A minute later, I saw another "dog" go past, but definitely no person. I stared in interest, maybe they were coyotes? And then a large shape passed right in front of the window. Too big and blocky to be a coyote...but maybe a bobcat?

So I did what any other sane person would do, I grabbed my phone and slipped out onto the porch. The early morning was quiet and absolutely still. Walking down the sidewalk that runs alongside our apartment, were javelinas. 

They were surprising quiet, especially for such bulky creatures. I could hear the gentle  tap tap tap of their hooves on the sidewalk. And the occasional, soft grunty grunt as they snuffled the ground.

They went past me, obviously in no hurry, and with no concern. They seemed perfectly comfortable, like they were exactly where they wanted to be, and going exactly where they wanted. They may have tapity tapped on the sidewalk, but they were almost silent on the stones. 

I watched them for just a few minutes, and saw 8 javelinas. I don't know where they came from. I'm not really sure where they went. Our complex is enclosed on all sides by 5 foot high adobe walls, and iron gates too narrow for them to get through. I suppose they could have followed a car in, but it seems unlikely, unless the herd was ready and waiting to dash in! 

This group was calm and unhurried. After the last one passed out of sight, I sighed, and slipped back into the apartment - and smack into my husband. He had heard me open the door, and woke up to investigate. We both scared the bejesus out of each other! I told him about the javelinas I had seen. We went out to look, but they were gone. 

I showed him the pictures I had taken, and told him about it. I was so excited! Husband was interested, but soon went back to sleep. I was too giddy to sleep, but I didn't feel gross. Just excited. And finally, just after dawn, I slept.

I awoke late morning, and went about my day. I realized something, that afternoon. My thoughts were clear. My brain was peaceful. I was no longer battling constant ugly thoughts. I had control about what I thought about - and could dismiss unpleasant ideas. How angry that jerk client from 3 days ago made me? I could forget that. My worry that my boss was mad at me? I could let that go. Random frustrations? Gone. I've done a lot to try and manage my mental health problems, and it's never been this easy to get out of a bad place. 

It was the javelinas.

I know it sounds a bit ridiculous, but I feel that those javelinas come through to chase away my unhappy, twisted thoughts, and bring some peace. The whole event felt so unreal, even at the time. It was so quiet. So peaceful. So perfect. Javelinas are common in this area, sure. They're not common inside my apartment complex. There's much better places for them to scavenge, that are easier for them to get to. 

I don't really care what anyone thinks, or if it sounds silly. I believe those javelinas came to help me. I've always kinda liked javelinas, I think they're neat. But I never was super into them. That may have changed. I feel a kinship with them. These strange not-pigs really helped me. I will always remember that, and be grateful. 

Thank you, javelina friends! Your gift was much appreciated, at a time when it was also much needed. 

Photo credit: Southwest Wildlife Conservation

A Sudden and Heartbreaking Goodbye

Almost eleven and a half years ago, my husband and I were driving home together. I had a tiny Cavalier puppy on my lap. Suddenly I turned to him and said, "Omg, what do we do with her now???"

I had wanted my own Cavalier for years, and now we finally had our very own. It took a few days to come up with the perfect name. Since both husband and I work professionally with animals, we know a lot of animals. We didn't want a name we already knew. A name another dog or cat had already given shape to. And somehow we came up with Haiku. And it was perfect. And she was perfect. 

Bright, shining eyes

Happy, wagging tail

Puddle on the floor

And Haiku continued to be perfect. Oh, sure she was a little slow to potty train. But she was tiny, and easy to clean up after. But that was it. She was sweet, and cuddly, and endless playful. And she was adorable! 

And our lives continued, with Haiku at the center. When I opened my own salon, Haiku came to work with me. She came to events, even a movie night my business sponsored. She went on trips with us, if we could bring her. And our favorite, we'd go walking together. The best were the horse trails. Quiet and safe, Haiku could run off leash. Always plenty of time to call her back to me if we came across anyone else. Our favorite was a path that led up a wooded hill. At the top, it opened up to rolling hay meadows, and a manicured yard where the model airplane club launched their planes. We'd walk the rolling meadows, or play games with friends at the launch area. 

Practicing recalls. Haiku always checking in with me.

Big, Brown eyes

happy, wagging tail

licks my face

Haiku was always up for an adventure. She loved to play fetch, to play tug, or to go hiking with me and my dad. He was always surprised. "That dog can walk!" he'd exclaim. And she could! She hiked with us in the hills and valleys of Maryland. Reservoirs and mountains. Well, Maryland's mountains. If she couldn't clamber up some rocks, or across a stream, I'd just scoop her up and carry her across. We'd be exhausted at the end, but Haiku would wake up the next day ready for more adventures! Or hanging out and cuddling on the sofa. Whatever. Anything was good if you're a Haiku.

Because of her feet floofs, Haiku was always especially adorable when sleeping. But she always had a hard time with dog beds. She had long mastered the sofa, and our bed. But smaller pet beds often confused her. 

Loyal, clouded eyes

muzzle mostly grey

Runs only in her dreams

As Haiku got older, she developed a degenerative heart valve disease that affects most Cavaliers. In fact, at one point it was audible. It took us weeks to realize it was her. We just assumed it was our neighbors listening to annoying dance music too loud! When we finally realized it was her, she earned a new nickname "Dance Party Puppy". You really could hear it, and it sounded just like dance music. A regime of medications helped her heart function better, and quieted the dance party...which was a touch disappointing! 

Haiku slowed down, obviously. We took shorter, more sedate walks. She no longer could run endlessly up and down the stairs, chasing after toys and bringing them back. But that was okay. We still had little adventures. We still cuddled and napped together. And Haiku still followed us everywhere, all the time.

The wounded face of a Haiku that didn't get 

invited on a bathroom break

Haiku really liked hanging out while I did yoga

I always thought it would be the heart disease that got her. That it would worsen until we had to decide. That we had plenty of time. Sure, she was older. But she was okay. Her cardiologists were pleased with how she was doing. Her bloodwork looked good. We would probably have a few more years before her perfect, golden heart gave out. 

But I was wrong. So wrong. The bout of pancreatitis that started just three weeks ago wasn't caused by a change in Omega 3 supplements, but by a huge tumor growing on her liver. And two weeks ago, when her bloodwork showed an improvement in her liver values, it also showed one tiny concern in her kidney function. And just one week later, we were at the emergency vet with her. She was in kidney failure. Her liver was failing. And, of course, she was in (managed) heart failure. A few hours before, our regular vet had done a very quick ultrasound, and saw a mass. Because of her failing kidneys, Haiku needed IV fluids. Because of her failing heart, that would be very dangerous. Haiku spent the night at the emergency center with careful care and monitoring. We knew it was bad. We knew we had very little time left. 

Haiku made it through the night, but the ultrasound showed a large tumor on her liver. The only chance was immediate surgery. And we had already made the terrible choice not to. Logically, it was the correct decision. But emotionally, it was devastating. It would be wrong and selfish to attempt to prolong her life, and Haiku would suffer every step of the way. But how unbelievable for her life to be over? So suddenly. So unexpectedly. The right thing, yes. But never the easy thing. 

But I pretended. For Haiku. For Haiku, I could pretend. I would be cheerful. We took her home. Just for the afternoon. And with our last few hours together, we hung out. Haiku was too sick to even taste her favorite foods. Fresh, hot, salty French fries. Sour Cream and Onion chips. Pirate Booty. She did try for the Pirate Booty, but couldn't eat it. Just rested her chin on a puff. 

And all the while I told Haiku that soon she would feel better. We'd go over, and her doctor would make her feel better. And we'd go have one more adventure. Then she would go find her buddy Steed, and they would run together again in the rolling hay fields. And Crack, her BFF calico cat, would be there too. She wouldn't feel yucky, and she wouldn't be tired. All her friends would be there and she'd have so much fun. 

And that's what I told her until the end. And I told her how much I loved her. That she was the best puppy. That I loved every minute with her. I told her how much fun we had together. How perfect she was. How wonderful our life together had been. 

And then she was gone. 

Just a few days ago, my husband and I were driving home together. My hands clenched together on my lap. Silently, we wondered, "omg. How are we going to live without her???"

Goodbye, Haiku. Thank you for a wonderful life together. 

You're the best puppy and I loved every minute with you.

Web Breaker

I did get to have a nice little adventure with Truby last week. A nice, not quite as hot Saturday afternoon, I got out of work early, and headed over to see my favorite old grey mare.

I'm not old!

Truby is a tremendous pain in the patoot to find a saddle that fits, and she kinda hulked out this summer. Our favorite Black Country saddle was now too tight, and I've been trying to find a replacement. I think I found a winner with a Startrekk Icelandic saddle. Yup, an Icelandic saddle. It looks much like a normal dressage saddle, but it's specially designed for wide shoulders and an ultra forward girth groove. Since I'm still sorting out gullets and pads and such, (and it's still hot!) I decided to do a few walk laps around the ring, and then do a loop on the Backyard Trail. 

This used to be low, scraggly dried grass

I was taken completely by surprise by Truby's attitude as we headed down the trail. She was bold. She was confident. She strode out eagerly with her ears up and a long stride. I'm not sure where that horse came from, but holy cow! 

She actually felt a bit TOO bold, but since I really want to encourage her to be confident and brave on the trails, I decided just to let her be as bold as she wanted. I can always work on reining her in, after she's got a good "I got this" attitude installed. 

We haven't been back on the Backyard Trail in awhile, and not since the monsoons, and it looks so different! The little dried grasses at the beginning have grown almost knee high (my knees while riding!) and were quite thick and bushy. Lots of the trees have broadened branches across the trail. 

We hadn't gone too far when we came to a beautiful spiderweb square across the trail. With a big spider sitting right in the middle. I halted Truby with the intent of turning around. I didn't want to break through the web, especially not with my horse's face. Buuuut, Truby only paused for a few seconds before plowing through. I frantically tried to find the spider to make sure it wasn't ON me, as I brushed away tattered bits of web. 

Not really thrilled with the experience, when we came across another, even bigger web, with another, even larger spider sitting square in the middle, I again asked Truby to stop. NO WAY am I going through this one- -- oh, and there goes Truby. Busting face first through the spiderweb.

I grabbed a branch, trying to hold it as far away from myself as I could. As Truby burst ahead, I watched one very arngry spider scuttling across her web, and right toward the branch. And of course, since I came directly from work, I was wearing a tank top. And all I could feel was delicate strands of webbing and god knows what creepy crawlies all over my shoulders and bare arms. 

SO MAD

Luckily, the next part of the trail was free from spiders. Lots of overgrown branches. Truby was still striding right along, and even with my leaning low over her neck, or twisting to avoid branches or try to push them out of the way of my face, she still trucked right along. That surprised me. Truby's default has always been to gently stop if she feels her rider lose balance. But today was Web Breaker Truby, and she was going places!

And then we got to here

Then we reached the bend just before the compost heap. Truby stopped, and got super tense. Her head came up, and I felt her entire body lift a bit in that sickening HOLY SHIT I'M GONNA FREAK OUT!!!!!!!! thing they do, and there's nothing to do about it. To high to control with the reins at all, so tense and ready to fly at the teeniest bit of leg. I HATE HATE HATE that feel. Hate it. 

So I let her stop. I talked calmly and cheerfully to her. I let her look. And the instant she began to relax I asked her to go forward. And to my surprise, she did. Now, she did try to turn around, but she's didn't whirl or spin, so yay! I just completed the circle and urged her on. She was very tense, and so ready to whirl and run, but I kept talking and sitting very quietly on her, and we made it past.  She relaxed a bit more once the brush pile was behind us, but was still very tense. Luckily it was almost the end of the trail. She stopped once more, when the neighboring paddocks come into view, but walked on. The actual turn out at the end of the trail was really overgrown, so I opted to do a tiny half circle on the clear part of the trail, instead of risk completely freaking her out by wading into chest high grasses. 

She calmed a bit once we were heading back, and once we passed the brush pile, she let out a huge sigh, dropped her head, and motored down the trail, strong and confident once more. 

We'll call it 98% brave

I'm not sure what upset her so much, but I have seen coyotes skulking about, and once startled a family of quail out of the brush pile, so there probably was something scary in there. We do have some dangerous wildlife out here, and I prefer Truby go with her instinct than possibly get ambushed. Of course, if it was just some quail...they're far too cute (and too dumb) to be scary, but we'll err on the side of caution. 

On the way back we passed a very annoyed spider reeling in the tattered remains of her once glorious web. I swear, she looked pissed, and I'm sure I heard her cussing us as we went past. Truby didn't care though, and we finished our ride on a high note. 

Even though our ride was only 20 minutes, Truby was soaked under her saddle pads, and felt sticky all over. She good cookies and good pony pats and praise, and I hosed her off. Then I turned her back out, for the ultimate Grey Horse Reward: rolling in the dust while soaking wet.

We had a lot of fun, and I'm thrilled at her bravery and change of attitude out on the trail...even if it's still on the property. Once it cools down, I have some plans to try and take her to Saguaro National Park, part of which is a very short trailer ride away. But first it's going to be another 100+ week, and then I go on vacation(!) hopefully I return to more fall like weather. I can't even type that without laughing! 

Just a Girl, Screaming Like a Goat, That Screams Like a Man

I realize that title only makes sense if you're a fan of the webcomic, Poorly Drawn Lines. If you're not familiar, let me help you out.

It's just been this, all the time

Over the last many weeks, I've been getting tireder and tireder. That's not really unusual for me (yay chronic pain problems!) but it is annoying. It was hard getting through a workday. Days off were spent napping. Trying to keep up my little exercise schedule dwindled to almost nothing. Trips to the barn were mostly short little guilt driven visits. Must go see horse I spend most of my money on, otherwise why have a horse? Must go give cookies so she still loves me. My time at the barn may not have been long, but Truby was always glad to see me!

Barn dog photobomb

This turned out fancy, except for the shadows

We had a solid week of monsoons. Every day some part of Tucson got some great storms. It wasn't often our area, but every day we had long bouts of rumbling thunder and some lightning. Sometimes most of the day. That week seems to have driven off most of the flies, so Truby is out of her fly sheet and only needs her mask. I think she's happy to be unwrapped! It's really nice to be able to be at the barn without the constant harassment of flies. There's still a few, but it's not too bad. 

I'm beginning to regain some energy, just in time for some vaccinations, which promptly knocked me right back out! And then Haiku decided to get sick, so we've had multiple vet visits with her, and one very sad little pup. Luckily she's improving, slowly but surely.

I took advantage of her misery to get a good photo

Auri has been growing steadily, and is starting to get a bit of a snotty teenager attitude. Just flashes, and it's still kinda cute. She's also discovered she can reach the top of the seven foot tall bookshelf. 

Master of all she surveys...

Still fits in a Prime box

I'm really hoping the next few weeks show an increase in my energy levels, and a decrease in sick pet levels. The weather is beginning to cool, just a bit, and soon it will be time to do outdoor stuff. Well, do outdoor stuff without dying of heat exhaustion and sunburn! I'm looking forward to exploring some new areas, and trying to take Truby out to the big wash for adventures. 

Truby mostly just wants pets and cookies