World's Worst Blogger

No doubt I could win the award for the World's Worst Blogger! I just noticed that I have been left off the list on one of my favorite blogs to read. My last blog was in April.

I think the problem is that I forgot why I was writing. No one...well hardly anyone...ever visited my blog and so I kind of thought "why bother." But the truth is that I started this blog so that I could express myself in some written form other than writing in a journal. Of course I also started it because I was grieving the death of my sweet little Yorkie, Mouse, who died on April 16, 2007.

Now I have just experienced the death of my last Yorkie...Christy died on August 12, 2008. She was just a couple of week shy of her 17th birthday...which is today! I am passionately in the journey of grieving for her. At the end she didn't have much quality of life but she still seemed to want to go on and so I have her that option...until she couldn't anymore.

The house is not empty of puppy love. Barclee, our Bichon Frise, came to live with us in early December. She turned 5 on March 1st. She seemed to be more than content to just have a loving home and stay in the background of Christy. Now Christy is gone and Barclee is trying to get used to be in the limelight! She still refuses to eat dinner where Christy used to...which was in the kitchen. No, she wants to eat in the living room where we fed her from her first day here on Audubon Drive! She is very sweet and I truly do love her dearly...but I must admit that I miss those little Yorkies very, very much.

So much has happened to me that requires writing about in order not to carry it around with me. So, I am going to try this again. Only this time I will keep in mind that I am writing just for me and if anyone should come by and visit, well may God bless them...and if no one comes that is just fine too.

But now I have to go and finish a sermon for church tomorrow. Must keep priorities straight!

Until later......

Home Coming

Mousie came home today. While I was at a meeting in Fresno my sweet husband went to pick her up at the crematorium. She is in a little cedar box with a lock and key. Most importantly, she is home.

She came home with a little piece of prose that I would like to share a part of here for any animal lover who happens upon this blog.

When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to a place

There, there is always food and water and warm spring weather.

The old and frail animals are young again.

Those whom are maimed are made whole again.

They play all day with each other.

I remember with fondness when Mousie was very young the incredible amount of energy she would have as she ran around, jumped on furniture, pounced on her toys and general made a spectacle of herself! We would laugh and laugh at her antics. In the end she was very slow and could no longer run and jump.

It put a big smile on my face to read the above and think of her young again and jumping and running and making a spectacle of herself as she played with my other beloved dogs (Timmy, Peenutz and Scamper [all toy poodles] and Sasha and Tiffany [tiny yorkies])!

Surely that "place" is called heaven. For our dear heavenly Father loves all of His creations. Run and jump to your heart's content, my dear little Mousie!

My Broken Heart

I started out this blog with such enthusiasm and after three entries I kind of fizzled out. I have a lot in my head and heart to say but I find that I am still in deep mourning for my little Mousie. In my paid daytime job I am a grief counselor. However, I find that I have no tender words of consolation from me to me for my broken heart. Someone asked me why I was still sad and I answered "because Mousie is dead." They then asked if I would be said forever because she would be dead forever. I am glad that person is NOT a grief counselor because they would fail miserably in that position!

My husband thinks I am simply missing "a dog" and that "another dog" could fill my empty spot. And although the last thing in the world he wants is "another dog" he is willing to let this happen so that I can be "happy" again. The thing is that I am not simply missing "a dog." I am specifically missing my Mousie. I tell the people in my support groups and the ones I counsel in my office that "grief takes as long as it takes." I guess everyone will just have to wait for a while for me to be "happy."

About Mousie

This picture of my Mousie was taken just a week before she died. Obviously you can see why I thought she was so precious!

Mousie was born on January 10, 1992. Her Dam was "Patten's Litten Tinx" and her Sire was Glendenings Glo of Starlite." They were show dogs...Mousie was not. She was not a "box" and that is what a "show dog" is supposed to be.

She didn't start out as "Mousie." She started out her life as "Nellie" but it was quite obvious from the beginning that not only did she have no idea that her name was "Nellie" but that she didn't much like it. My late husband, Chuck, and I both agreed at the same time that her name should be "Mousie." She took to it immediately.

As cute as she was, we were her 4th home. She had been purchased and brought back to the breeders three times before Chuck and I gave her a home. She was already 11 months old by the time she came to our family. We soon found out why her other families had brought her back...she did not have good "potty habits." A sad fact that endured for her entire 15 years, 3 months and 6 days.

She became part of a family that consisted of her "daddy," Chuck, her "mommy," me and her "sister," Christy (another yorkie who was 14 months old and had been a member of the family for a year...more on her later). Except for her unacceptable "potty habits" Mousie was a sweet, loveable little yorkie and a wonderful addition to our family. Life went on and we all "bonded." We were known as "The Lemmers;" Chuck, Lee and "the girls!"

Chuck became very ill in 1993. "The girls" became his constant companions until his death in March 1995. Chuck died at home with "the girls" in his lap. When the funeral home came to take Chuck, Mousie growled and scared the guy so much that he had to ask me to "remove the dog." She weighed 4.5 lbs but thought she was a doberman!

The following year "the girls" and I moved to Lodi, CA after we accepted Bob Johnson into our family! There were a lot of problems with the move. There was another dog to deal with..."Duke," a very large golden retriever. There were Bob's two children. There were a lot of fights for the "Alpha Dog" position between Bob, Christy and Mousie! Life went on.

Three years ago Mousie was mauled by the dog behind us. He pulled her through a knot hole in the fence. It was awful. She was seriously wounded but that little 4.5 lbs of messy hair pulled through. She had a personality change though. She grew very, very fond of "mommy." I'm sure she always loved me in her little doggy fashion but after her "near death experience" I became her best buddy. I was "Mousie's Mommy" and I loved it. She followed me everywhere and had to be with me whenever I was home. She slept with me, cuddled with me and I was in heaven!

I miss her more than I would have imagined possible. She has a very special place in my heart and I am so very grateful for the time I had with her.

I will remember her most of all for her love of popcorn, her ability to stretch her 4.5 lb frame enough to take up more than half of a queen size bed, her goofy little walk and her little notched tongue. And of course I will always remember her for giving me the privilege of being "Mousie's Mommy!"