It has not been like this since the night of October 30th of last year, the night my friend drove me through a blinding rainstorm to where I had arranged to bring her body to be sent for cremation. I tried very hard not to cry onto her very stiff body that I cradled in my arms and held tightly while telling her not to be afraid. I kept telling my friend to drive faster through the dangerous storm because I could not fathom bringing her in through sheets of rain and torrents of thunder...for sixteen years she hated nothing more.
We had found her in a thunderstorm almost 16 years before. She was soaking cold, no more than 4 weeks old and ugly as hell. I told people then how pretty she would be because ugly babies always ended up looking beautiful.
She did.
She amazed everyone with her intelligence and her interaction with me. Even dog people were awestruck, because they HAD to be. I babied her a little too much at times, and got a little too hysterical over how others would not follow my instructions as to her care a LOT of times, but she was my BABY and I was responsible for any and every thing in her life.
I miss her so much and still, of course, think she is outside the bathroom while I'm brushing my teeth, or needing something when I'm not around. But mostly, I think of her when it rains. I have always loved thunderstorms; I almost became a meteorologist.
She didn't hate them, she was petrified of them, and as we both remembered our first meeting I couldn't change that but did everything to help her through each and every one I could. Singing to her in bed, turning on Beethoven REALLY loud...putting ALL the lights on in the middle of the night to mask the lightning.
The rain JUST stopped. I know she was above me while I wrote this, in fact I was going to end this way anyways.
She is above the rain now, she can see the beautiful lightening and clouds from above and isn't afraid of thunderstorms anymore. And I can enjoy them for the raw beauty they contain, and know my baby is safe.
We had found her in a thunderstorm almost 16 years before. She was soaking cold, no more than 4 weeks old and ugly as hell. I told people then how pretty she would be because ugly babies always ended up looking beautiful.
She did.
She amazed everyone with her intelligence and her interaction with me. Even dog people were awestruck, because they HAD to be. I babied her a little too much at times, and got a little too hysterical over how others would not follow my instructions as to her care a LOT of times, but she was my BABY and I was responsible for any and every thing in her life.
I miss her so much and still, of course, think she is outside the bathroom while I'm brushing my teeth, or needing something when I'm not around. But mostly, I think of her when it rains. I have always loved thunderstorms; I almost became a meteorologist.
She didn't hate them, she was petrified of them, and as we both remembered our first meeting I couldn't change that but did everything to help her through each and every one I could. Singing to her in bed, turning on Beethoven REALLY loud...putting ALL the lights on in the middle of the night to mask the lightning.
The rain JUST stopped. I know she was above me while I wrote this, in fact I was going to end this way anyways.
She is above the rain now, she can see the beautiful lightening and clouds from above and isn't afraid of thunderstorms anymore. And I can enjoy them for the raw beauty they contain, and know my baby is safe.
