Saying Goodbye

Each room in our home is emptier now, since Lucy Girl died.  Our "Loved Dog" said her good-byes to us over a three day period of sickness from which she could not recover.

We knew, as we sat on the floor with her. We knew. She Knew.

She knew. Our time together was short, and like every day of her life and ours, we made the most of it.  Our neighbor, Julie, walked slowly with tears in her eyes after I called and said, 'please come say good-bye.' Even then Lucy shared her kisses and found one last bounce in her step for Julie.

  The Joys of our silly cow dog:

 

I once wrote that I might never have become a blogger if it hadn't been for our silly dog (click on the link to read the blog) Loosey Goosey

 

Silly, curious, like every dog, she explored her world with zest and gave us hours of laughter, stories, and memories. First Contact

She discovered the most remarkable trails in our journeys across the middle states.  Guard of the Plains

I-70 Eisenhower Interstate

Even in the garden I find it empty without her curious nose into every plant, bush, and possible rabbit trail. Always near my side she became My Shadow

sixteen stories including our good-bye. Perhaps my favorite was the most recent, as Lucy was 'OUR' companion, not just mine.  Puppy Dog Love

Today, I sat alone in the closet pulling on my walking shoes. Her nose was not there sniffing my shoes, pawing at me to hurry. "Hurry,  let's go walking and exploring."

 So a toast to Lucy....I will think of you each time I put on those old walking shoes. I will look for you under my feet. I will look for you following Jack from the Kitchen to the table. I will miss you at Jack's side. I will look for you in the 'man cave' keeping an eye on Jack, an eye on me, and an eye on the front door. Our great protector is gone.  

 

 Now, we will see her among the flowers. 

 *RIP Lucy Girl, September 10, 2020

Other Lucy blogs: 

First Contact on Becoming a Dog

...And My Shadow

Thunder Is Not Just a Basketball Team

The New Addition--Scooter

Puppy Dog Love

 Who's in charge?

After thirteen years of loving Lucy, we still laugh at how well she has us trained in the art of fetching the ball when she wants us to play, in fixing her food first thing in the morning before we've enjoyed a silent time of reverie, or when she demands a walk, no matter how cold or windy.

Patience.
We call our behavior 'puppy dog love' because when we first brought her home, she was the most pitiful lost terrified animal we had ever been around. She would not leave our bedroom until we carried her outside. She would not tinkle/poop unless we stayed in the yard with her. She didn’t bark or whimper. After she climbing a tree chasing an animal, she still didn't know she was a dog. In her attempt to protect me from a squirrel, she managed to chase the squirrel up my leg and then barked at me. For the full story read here: Walking Pell-Mell

Who trained whom?
We regularly watched The Dog Whisperer, Cesar, on television. I read The Loved Dog by Tamar Geller, and I took Lucy to Dog Obedience school.  After six months of patiently loving and training Lucy she discovered a new life as a loved house dog and companion.

The Lucy alarm!
The first time she barked in the back yard, the neighbor and I both ran to her to see what happened. Like a child who just took a first step she barked again for her newly formed audience. Ever since that first bark, she has continued to greet strangers and guests with a ferocious barking howl, until the guests give her time to sniff and pronounce them worthy of coming into her home..

 Good cows. Good cows.
When we lived on Quivira Drive in Hutchinson, across the road from 40 acres of prairie, we often played hide and go seek in the tall grasses with Lucy. She relished the excitement of finding one of her lost cows. We still play in our yard hiding behind trees, or in our house Jack will turn to Lucy, who sleeps at his feet by the television and call, "Where's Letty?"  Instantly, she searches the rooms until she finds me, then herds us both together. Sadly,  she is aging faster than we are, with her hips quivering and back legs slipping Jack sometimes drives her to the park where she sniffs and saunters in slow-mo, as we stand shivering in the cold mumbling words to ourselves while waiting on our loved dog.

Togetherness.
Jack and I spend time talking about our goosey dog and how much she has become a part of our daily routine. Through her training of us, her cows one or both of us walk with her daily; she begs routinely from Jack at the dinner table; even though she is deaf, she still hears cabinets closing when Jack is in the kitchen and like magic arrives at his side waiting on a crumb to fall to the ground.  At the dinner hour she herds us into the kitchen to fix her dinner and sit together as a family. She much prefers to keep her cows in one room together with her.

Puppy Dog Love.  

Off and on these last two years she has gone through weeks of severe gastrointestinal issues that ruin carpet and make me nauseous. We love on her and feed her a special fat free Gastrointestinal canned dog food. The Vet prescribed medicine for her nervous stomach and pain pills for her aching hips.   In my childhood our father would have taken her to the country one day and put her out of misery. Now, Lucy looks at us with those brown eyes and says, "I am sorry. I am sorry. Please don't be mad." Jack and I work as a team to clean up and then our hearts weep inside.

Hugs and tears.

Just before Valentine's, as she lay on the cold tile exhausted from being sick for three days, we said our good-byes to her, knowing that she probably would die during the night. When she didn't wake us early the next morning, I lay in bed and quietly cried. Then suddenly I felt a bump against the bed, and felt her paw reaching for me. Like a startled bird I leaped out of bed and found Lucy standing there with her tail wagging ever so slightly.

Belly rub and massage on a sunny winter day. 

I Love Lucy.  

Valentine's came this year with surprises and gifts from Letty to Jack and Jack to Letty. Lucy doesn't like to be left out. When Jack bought a dozen radiant red roses and a box of hot tamales, my favorite candy, Lucy signed the card with him. One year she even a bought a special Valentine card just for me. She knows that we are a team and she is proud of her cows.  

Nova hosts a show called Dog Tales that explains the science behind why dogs like being with people Click on this link to learn more Nova's Dog Tales.  

First Contact

Recently, one of our lazy wistful walks woke the neighborhood with barking that translated to “I’m here! I’m here! I’m here!” And hissing that screamed, “Stop or take a slash.” As if the poor black cat that was dumped on our country road didn’t have enough problems, he was now face to face with Lucy again. But this time we were on his turf.

Our first encounter with the black one came a few weeks ago at three o’clock in the morning. Lucy, our devoted Blue Heeler, woke me to warn me of an intruder in her backyard. The whining and abrupt cold nose on my arm roused me to the situation. Since she seemed so intent on saving me from the critter outside, I thought I could at least get out of bed and act concerned. Looking out the window into the moon brightened night I saw the rather large black animal crouched by the hot tub stairs. I checked for a possible white stripe or strange “tale” and saw none. I assured her that we were safe inside the house, but Lucy continued her pacing until at last I opened the door.

The chase was on with lightning speed until the large black cat could not jump or climb over the fence it had once casually crossed to enter our backyard. In a sudden turn of events the cat took a hissing swipe at Lucy then raced, not to the nearest tree, but to a large tall cottonwood tree toward the back of the yard. With Lucy on his tail I watched as the cat climbed straight up, and then in slow motion slide back down toward Lucy’s barking jaws.

When I realized that Lucy might actually catch the cat, I raced to the tree wearing my twenty year old Halston’s blue night gown, screaming nonsense garble like “stop, no, wait!” As the cat’s haunches hit the ground I dove for Lucy like a tackler downing the quarterback making full contact with the dog just seconds before first contact (the bite).

Poor Lucy didn’t know what hit her, and I certainly felt surprised finding myself on the ground. With three of us huffing, puffing, and hissing the chase had ended. The dog and I sat safely by the tree as the cat flipped his tail high and marched off like he deserved a round of applause.

Little did I know that Lucy would once again come face to face with the black cat, but that’s another story.