Last week and losing Lucy Lu

So I mentioned last week was a bad week. It would make great material for a country song ... and occurrences this week aren't really making this one much better. Yes, whining.

Let's see, first my mom's dog died one week ago today ... that was a very big deal because I found her for mom, mom rescued her and had her for 12 years. Coincidentally, that same day, last Thursday, we thought my son had sprained his arm. He didn't ... there's more to it, but it's something I'll have to write about separately.

I wrote a little obit for Lucy Lu on another site and am sharing it below ... the few of you who know me on that "other site," have likely already read this, but for any anon folks, I'd like to post it here.

ALSO in other news (something positive), I went to yoga Tuesday and *again* yesterday, so I'm back in the hot room and have spent three hours so far this week sweating out the toxins. I'm sore as hell today. I'm sure I'll post more about yoga later but first let me tell you about lil Lucy Lu ...

Lucy Lu was a wonderful companion to my mother for more than a decade. After my mom's first Shitzu, Marcie, passed away at the end of 2002, I quickly took it upon myself to find a "replacement" companion for my mother ... I've since learned there is no such thing as replacing an animal, a soul.

So, knowing my mother liked the breed, I was all over Petfinder.com seeking a Shitzu rescue, and I found Lulu, as I fondly referred to her ... she was a rescue, about two years old at the time, and she was found when boys were chasing her down the street with a stick. She was black and white, so I thought that her being a different color than Marcie (who was blonde), was likely a good thing.

She had two eyes at the time, but one was abscessed ... the vet said from blunt trauma ... and she'd already lost vision in that eye, and it was causing her pain ... but my mother took her took her anyway, and spent as much as it would cost to purchase an AKC Shitzu puppy in order to get her healthy. The vet removed the abscessed eye,  and Lucy lived just fine as a one-eyed dog for years.

Naturally, Lucy was never very trusting of many people. And I recall when I was pregnant, my mother saying, "If she even attempts to bite that baby, I'm going to find her a new home." Guess what? She never attempted to bite baby Ryder, and she was actually protective of him.

I'm very sad to share that Lucy passed away today. She had suffered from pancreatitis for several years, and my mom had been cooking homemade meals, chicken, greens, etc., in an attempt to help her issues.

My mother phoned me today that she had to take Lulu to the hospital, that Lulu was dehydrated, that they wanted to keep her 24-hours and provide an IV ...

So mom left ... went home to get Lulu's bed and blankey, and by the time she returned? Lucy had suffered a blood clot to her brain, which killed her.

I'm so very sad ... and I'm angry that I can't seem to find one good photo of our special Lulu to post here.

Please keep my mother in your prayers, as she goes through this transition of losing a very special soul. Luckily she has one other dog in her home right now, so she's not alone. And as long as I'm alive, she will never be alone.

Children, homeless dogs, and Punky Brewster

I really meant to post before now. I mean, my intent is to post frequently, and it's therapeutic and blah-blah-blah ...

And then it was Friday. Sweet, darling Friday, and I was exhausted because I'm always exhausted on Fridays. And my family visits on Friday. Wait, I have family members at my house five days a week. Family members WHO DON'T LIVE there. And I'm always getting irritated because I can't find anything. Any guess as to why? Because I apparently never passed the "life" course "Establishing Healthy Boundaries," and my family members feel it's OK to move shit around without telling me. Or to remove items from my home entirely.

So feel free to come over and rob me anytime, because I'll likely think it was one of my family members who just decided that ring probably needed to be put in the jewelry box and didn't belong on the windowsill above the kitchen sink, which is where *I* left it when I was washing dishes. Kidding. I don't wash dishes. But I do wash my hands, so that's why it was there, m'k? And it'll take me forever to figure out if it was actually stolen, or if someone moved it.

So where was I? ... the point of this update ... oh, how I'm behind because I was a little exhausted Friday, and then I received an email at 5:05 (Friday) from my attorney saying the opposing attorney has issued a general response to the papers that we served 14 days prior. I was kind of impressed, I mean they had 20 days to respond, and they replied in 14 days. Thanks, Friday.

But then I wasn't impressed because I was confused. And mad. And exhausted. And I was going to have to see the ex at my kid's practice that night. The one I attended mostly to prevent a ding-bat family member from talking to him because she doesn't realize he is THE ENEMY right now. Lord, seriously, how am I going to control all of these people????

And the weekend progressed and rolled on, and I'm so sick of fighting and being on edge and being pissed off. I'm so sick of it. And of fever blisters, canker sores, upset stomachs, and insomnia ... And I'm sick of seeing my ex in my city at the kid's functions three times a week. And just when I was about to have a serious breakdown ... I decided it was time ... for our fourth foster dog this year.

Yes, we fostered our first in January, placed him in his permanent home, fostered another in February, repeat March ... and I was skipping April because of all the other crap going on in my life, and I needed a break and that last foster nearly broke my heart when I delivered him to his forever home ... but I saw one who needed a foster, and I was foster-free for like, four entire weeks, so dang it ... YES, I will foster her.

I picked her up Saturday, and I'm telling you, there ain't much cuter than my eight-year-old son walking up to the soccer field toward his father, and the players and families who had arrived just before us, with a damn six pound rescue dog in his arms. My icy heart, frozen cold for months, cracked a bit ... and for some reason, I was almost nice. I blame children combined with homeless dogs ...

So more about my delayed post ... TODAY, the subject of Punky Brewster Frye's blog came up with another writer friend, and I'm not about bashing Punky ... I have enough people in my real life to bash (some family members) ...

But when I looked at the list of "contributors" who contribute to her blog, I'm not sure she writes much of anything there. MORE THAN 30 contributors. And you're damn right I had to read each one's name to make sure it wasn't any of the female bloggers I regularly follow and respect doing work on behalf of Punky. And then that got me all discouraged like, who's gonna read my blog page when Punky's out there?

And then I realized I am here for my own sanity's sake. And to keep up with a few people I used to keep up with before, and to keep some others posted because Facebook has betrayed us all, and then I said, OK, open that window and type this shit out your BRAIN.

That is all.

Think on it

I can be impulsive, no doubt. I often tend to go with my gut. In many instances my gut instinct has resulted in blessings; in others, curses ... OK, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but my gut has steered me wrong at times, as well.

The first dog I ever owned as an adult? I impulsively drove about four hours to meet him and, of course, brought him home with me. He was the best dog I ever owned, though I only had him for half of his life, and he died at the age of 10 from lymphoma.

Since my gut proved 100 percent right with that dog, C-Diddy, and since I couldn't stand not having a dog greet me when my son and I returned from work and daycare at the end of the day, especially since our house was unusually quiet because I had separated from my husband and his dog went with him ...well, when a friend told me "I know you're not a 'little dog' person, but if you know of anyone looking, I've got one at my barn needing a home," I found myself, three days after putting CD down, driving over an hour to fetch that lil dog.

It may not have been the best decision, but he's ours still, six years later ... a year after getting lil dog, I ended up with another lil dog, who I had hoped would be a "companion dog" for the other. The two aren't really companions but co-exist, and my animal situation is nothing like it was back in the day with CD.

Not willing to risk turning our current home into a three-dog household, we decided to foster dogs this year through a rescue organization. Impulsively, of course.

I immediately fell in love with my first foster, a big dog (golden/shep mix) ...even though he destroyed a door in my house due to his separation anxiety. He was worth it though, and heck, I kind of needed to replace that door anyway.

I feared I would be a foster failure, but I survived letting him go to his forever home, and then we took another, and then another, placing them in permanent homes, as well.

My gut hasn't steered me wrong with fostering ... at least not thus far. And one thing I wanted to happen did -- we kind of shook up the dog hierarchy in the house. I've found myself working with my own dogs more, and I think they're just happy that when one dog leaves, it's not either one of them.

I decided to take some time off from fostering, considering I have enough stress right now, as well as extra-curricular weekend and sports activities with my boy. But then I saw this one the other day ... his little face ... and well, you know, I've been foster-free for three or four entire weeks ... so maybe?

Impulsively, I drove to the shelter he's at during a lunch break ... the dog had not yet been vetted, not tested for heart-worms, still unaltered ... and the staff at the shelter was difficult to work with, considering I was there representing a rescue organization.

And so I did something I didn't expect to do ... I drove away without pre-paying for him, without committing, and without a dog in my backseat. I went with my gut today, and spoke with the head of our rescue, and she agreed I did the right thing.

We'll keep an eye on him to see if he gets adopted ... to see when/if they vet him, etc., and I'll just think on it. That's kind of something I need practice at anyway.