Today is the 2 year anniversary of Meeka’s death. I can’t believe it’s been two years. We still miss her constantly.
I grieve more than a little. Miss you big girl!
More than a few days behind, I’m powering on to end in the Photo a Day challenge. Day 20′s prompt was a tough one to narrow down!
Fave Photo You’ve Ever Taken
I may have shared these before, the one of the girlies tails I know I have, but perusing my photo’s they were the ones that stood out. It got me thinking of what makes a favorite photo. It’s not just the composition or the skill shown in taking the picture, I really don’t have that. For me it’s as much about the memory the image triggers. Memories of firsts, like Maizey’s first swim. Memories of lazy days at the park with the family from when Magnus was a baby. The photo of Maizey is from a walk in the country. It’s her best super model in the wind fan pose. See how her black leg hair is short? It was after her knee surgery and I remember being so happy she was recovering.
I love having a photo diary to remind me of all the things I don’t take time to remember in the whirlwind of day to day life. Do you keep a photo diary?
I never claimed to be a great photographer. I’m more the type that takes 200 shots and still has to crop out someones left arm or something random like that just to find one good shot, so it’s not surprising how many mishmashed pictures I have. The great thing about Mishmash Monday is it lets me share those photo’s that really aren’t good pictures, but still make me smile or tell a story about my pups.
Today’s story is about how funny it is when I make my dogs stay and they don’t want too. It’s pretty much a guarantee for a bad picture since they just end up giving me the evil, “I don’t WANT to stay!” eye. Both of these have gorgeous flowers in them, but the dogs are looking less than impressed with the scenery.
It’s a shame too, since I waited all spring for these iris to open with the idea of taking a pic of Maizey and Magnus in front of them. I took shots of Meeka in this same spot the year we lost her and thought it would be neat to have matching photo’s, different years. The dogs didn’t agree. Notice Magnus isn’t even in the photo? Meeka was much more agreeable model. Is it possible I still miss her this much after almost two years? I love these two monkeys just as much, but they sure can be brats!
Have you joined Mishmash Monday? You should it’s even more fun than I thought it would be!
Early this morning we lost one of our favorite 4legged friends. Levi was a our friends’ heart dog and we’ll miss him. My heart goes out to his mom and family.
As each one does, this loss has me thinking of the ones I’ve loved and lost. As a sort of tribute to the wonderful heart dog Levi was I want to share my lost heart dogs here. Each dog has their own lessons for us. Some get into our hearts more than others, but all stay with us forever. My aim is to take what each of these dogs has taught me and use it to be a better dog mom, trainer and teacher. In that way they stay alive with me even though they are gone in the today.
I have to give Summit, our Alaskan Malamute a mention even though I don’t have access to a photo today. The lessons he gave me were some of the hardest and most valuable of any dog I’ve ever had.
Have you lost a heart dog? Give them a mention here and if you want say a bit about what made them so special. . .
When you can’t remove someone’s pain, sometimes all you can do is sit in the space the other is in and keep them company. Let’s all keep each other company in this space of loss. Thanks everyone.
One year ago today we lost Meeka.
Grief is like waves. Some come crashing down in a thunderous boom, some wash over you rearranging the sands of your grief. All loss tosses you into that ocean. Wish for only the waves that roll softly in and gently rearrange your grief in a way that lets you continue to heal. Ride the ones that pound you into the sand secure in the knowledge gentler waters will come.
We still miss you Big Girl!
Reilly the cowspot dog is having a contest about how everyone got their names. I think it’s absolutely fascinating what makes humans give their 4legged friends the names they do.
Magnus name came from hours of searching those baby naming websites, which in itself just doesnt seem that great of a story. But bear with me it gets more interesting.
When we knew we didn’t have long left with Meeka I started the search for our next 4legged family member. Daily I would troll through the depths of Petfinder and any rescue site I could find looking for that perfect pup.
As I found puppies that looked like good potential family members I started compiling a list of names I loved. This was at the time when Meeka really couldn’t get up very much anymore so we would lay in bed, and I would tell her the names.
I know it’s crazy, I know it didn’t mean anything to her really. But the sound of my voice and those hours we spent together seemed to soothe her, so I just talked to her about what was on my mind. What was on my mind were puppies and names.
That is a wonderful 4legged lesson of dogs: They don’t hold your grieving process against you, even if it looks sort of crazy. I think she knew I was just spending time with her, but to get through those hours I had to look to the future too, and our future turned out to be Magnus.
Well, thats only half the story. After we lost our Big Girl I kept up the search until I met Sally from Flawdogs Adoption and she felt Magnus was a perfect match for us. She said he was recovering quickly from his puppy mill days and that he was a “corker”.
I had always wanted to name my next boy Rottie Solomon. It is the big, robust name of a wise gentle and kind king. In ancient Hebrew it means peace. I still love that name. But even for a corker it seemed a bit much of a name for a Cav, especially a four pound barrel shaped boy with stumpy legs, as he turned out to be. Still I held onto that name.
When we left for the airport to fly to St. Louis to get him I was armed with the options that my little blenheim boy would come home named: Solomon, Felix (meaning happy), Flynn, Henry (meaning ruler of the household and which ultimately became the name of Kathleens’ Henry).
My top two choices were still Solomon and Magnus, meaning great.
We met Gene from Flawdogs at the airport and I spent the day getting to know my little boy but it wasn’t until we were back on the airplane and half way home that he told me his name was Magnus. All day in the airport he proved himself intrepid. He wasn’t fazed by anything, he immediately started playing with toys, and meeting people, even the jostle of going through security didn’t faze him.
Then in that moment on the airplane when the flight attendant suggested I let him out to play and he toddled out of the carrier onto a potty pad and started chewing on my shoelace I knew- this dog is great. He is Magnus The Great. I picked him up and started telling him how great he was and he promptly fell asleep in my arms for the rest of the flight home.
He didn’t stay named Magnus The Great for long, as he soon started show me he was much more of a Magnus The Intrepid Destroyer. So that is why Magnus is more than just a name-it’s a story!
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