Since I’ve been gone from the blogging world, WordPress changed the format for drafting and posting. I don’t like it. It’s taking me forever to figure out how to add photos. What is this block thing? Why can’t I just write paragraphs as if on a page? Why do I need blocks? So frustrating. 🤦♀️
After we said goodbye to our dog, Max . . . simply doing our regular routine felt like a knife to the gut. He was always there during every routine. It’s difficult to change things up, because I still needed to do all the same things I always did, only without him. I started to write a little about my routine, but how boring. I’ll just get to the point of this post.
Last week I posted about how a couple of people have tried to rush me to get a new pet after saying goodbye to my beloved dog, Max. Today I’d like to discuss a topic that is related, but more about processing emotions in general.
You might say that those people think they’re trying to help by offering a new pet to stop me from hurting. That may be true, but in many cases, I think this goes even deeper.
Why does much of society think they can obliterate bad times altogether for humanity?
Would I have adopted my first dog had I been warned? Probably. I didn’t get my first dog until I was thirty-five years old. Before then, I had no idea about the enormous bond that occurs between human and dog. Of course, I had heard about it, but hearing about it from others is trite in comparison to the experience. Not to mention, loving anyone is a risk usually worth taking.
Don’t get me wrong, I know that loving any pet (cat, rabbit, bird, etc) can lead to a broken heart. I’m focusing on dogs right now, because my heart is broken from loving a dog who left this earth just three short weeks ago.
I hadn’t planned a second post for this week, but I feel the need to write this story.
In May of 2007, my husband brought home a stray puppy that had been roaming the busy city streets of Tampa. We had our beloved Piezon in those days, plus our cat, Sneakers, and weren’t really up for a third pet. We both hoped that my training would get this pup into shape for us to find her a loving forever home.
Piezon wasn’t crazy about having another dog in the house either. Oh, he was certainly kind to her. He was just used to my full attention and was always by my side. With this new pup around me so much, he went off into other rooms by himself more often.
I named this sweet little girl Blaze for two reasons. One, she had a fiery brindle coat. Two, she was a bit timid, and I wanted her name to be a word with an energy of vibrancy and confidence.
Piezon was such a friendly guy. I wrote in his eulogy about how he loved all living things and was never shy or timid. Little did I know how much he would help me train Blaze and bring her out of her shell. When she’d hide from visitors who came over to our house, Piezon would run right for them, which made her curious. She’d have to come and see what all of his excitement was about. By simply being himself, Piezon is pretty much the one who trained Blaze for me. She emulated him.
I put out flyers and brought her to adoption events. Five months went by, and I was growing fonder of Miss Blaze. I told my husband that after six months she would be ours. Right when I made that decision, our dog-walker’s mom showed interest in adopting her, and soon after, Blaze was off to her forever home.
I was able to keep up with Blaze’s life through social media. Her new family named her Gioia (pronounced, Joy-ah), which in Italian means, Joy.
I saw Gioia in person twice in the coming months, and then a lot of time went by without personal contact. Would you believe that when we met again years later, she remembered me?! It makes me cry just thinking about it.
I haven’t seen her in person for many years now, but watched her life through social media. Over this past weekend, I got word she left this world for the next and it has me feeling emotional. I also feel very sad for Gioia’s mom.
Thank you for indulging my story about the Blaze who lit up five months of my life.
What a perfect night for Halloween in suburban Chicago 2018. The temperature requires only a sweater. The sky displays layers of pale yellow to pinkish-gray, reflecting onto golden glowing trees. Continue reading “A Glimpse of Halloween”→
I’ve been having a bit of a problem lately. Nothing huge. In fact, it’s quite minor compared to most problems, but it’s so pesky, so annoying . . . that sometimes I want to scream at the top of my lungs.