Blogging ... 2010
January 22, 2010 ... My son and daughter (Walt and Maddy) flew in from Denver to help me celebrate my 76th birthday. The plane was not able to fly around the largest Arizona storm of the year, so they arrived a bit ahead of their stomachs. We talked, laughed, ate and then watched a special fundraiser for Haiti after their devastating earthquake.
The next morning, Maddy fixed a breakfast casserole. We then went to see the early showing of "Avatar," which I had seen (my favorite movie of all time), but they had not. Maddy had a touch of motion sickness from the 3-D and rapid movement. For me, dragon flying brings great feelings of ecstacy. She came around when we went to Amuse Bouche for a late lunch. I believe she fell in love with a restaurant. Of course, we who live here know a good thing and frequent it as often as we can. We went to Best Buy where I cashed in a gift certificate on a web cam. After that, and downloading Skype on my desktop computer, we chatted with grands and greats for the rest of the day. Walt and I worked on making a DVD from videos taken at summer events after we looked at all of them.
Their last day, we had some birthday-gift-opening Skype calls. My Denver grands gave me a beautiful commemorative 75th Birthday book from our family gathering last year in LaJolla. Heather said it took all year to make it. What a treasure. We drove to Wickenburg for Rancho de los Caballeros' buffet lunch. I recall their brunches were better, but it was nice and neither Walt nor Maddy had been there before. Next year, we're going back to Amuse Bouche for their Sunday brunch which I recall offers eggs benedict with the best hollandaise sauce ever.
The weekend was practically over before it started. A1 Limo picked them up at 3:45 Sunday afternoon. Short, but oh so sweet.
March, 2010 ... My friend, Julie Janigian, visited me again this year. We had lunches with friends, attended a PEO meeting, shared family stories and generally enjoyed each other's company. Julie showed me a website honoring her brother, Paul, who was a Marine. It was very impressive. As long as I am here and as long as Julie can travel, she will visit me every year in early March. Julie is one of the finest friends a woman could hope to have in her lifetime.
My PEO chapter asked me to serve as treasurer another year and of course I agreed. Having done this job for so many years now, it's just routine and I enjoy it. List keeping has always been my forte.
April, 2010 - My sweet old lady dog, Cheerio, crossed the Rainbow Bridge on April 3. Only the night before, I had planned to give her a bath on Saturday morning, but she could not get comfortable and I knew it was time and made a new plan. I had spoken with Dr. John Oplinger, our wonderful vet in Wickenburg, the week before and asked him if I would know when it was her time. He told me what to look for and for the most part, she was already there. On Saturday morning, I called the clinic and arranged a time, went on my last walk with my beloved pet, then drove her to Wickenburg. I had packed a container of Haagen-Dazs vanilla bean ice cream (just an inch, melted by then) and she and I sat on the floor of the treatment room while she lapped up her favorite treat. Then Dr. O. came in and administered a tranquilizer. Cheerio and I sat on the floor, her head on my leg, and we talked. I told her how much I loved her, but that I wasn't going to let her be uncomfortable any longer. After about ten minutes, the doc came in with the final shot. She will be cremated and they will send me the ashes. Cheerio would have been 15 next month. I had Googled lots of Sheltie information and learned that experts estimated the lifetime of a Sheltie at either 12 - 14 years or 12 - 15 years. She had reached the high end.
It was getting more and more difficult for my old pet to get her hind legs under her. She struggled to get up. Occasionally, she would misstep and simply fall down. Then, she might just remain down until I lifted her back on her feet again. She might limp for awhile, then appear to be okay. Cheerio had been deaf except to just a few sounds. She would hear me cough or sneeze (that could awaken her suddenly and she would flop around not seeming to know what had awakened her). Other than that and strong clapping, she heard nothing. Her eyesight had failed to the point that she saw shapes, but didn't recognize people. Her nose never failed her. She would simply sniff me when I came home and know all was right with her world. From Thanksgiving on, Cheerio had been awakening me at night, usually between two and six times, to go out. She would spend a lot of time, sometimes 20 minutes, circling the patio furniture and getting relief. Often I would get back in bed only to be aroused again a few minutes later. After 2am, she would sleep sometimes until 8 and I would take advantage of that. I tried to never schedule anything before 9 or later. Now, the place she held in my life is empty.
It's the small things like saving the last bite of banana for her each morning (eventually, it was hard for her to grasp even a small piece in her mouth); walking past the foyer, her favorite place to sleep, equipped with her own fan and night light, and not seeing her there; sitting with her on the floor and lightly massaging her lumpy and bony old body (which never showed because of her long beautiful coat); marveling at her ability to learn my own version of sign language when she could no longer hear (she was soooo smart); having people who passed on our walks remark at how beautiful she was (that gorgeous coat took a lot of brushing); sitting on the floor of the shower with the hand-held spray nozzle and gently shampooing out the Arizona dust and dirt; responding to her polite but persistent requests for food, a biscuit, or a potty break; getting a loving lick on the hand while engaged in a petting session. No other pet would or could fill the unique void left by my beloved dog.
If another pet walks into my life, it won't be for awhile. I know, ... "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans."
Here are two pictures ... one taken in 2005, the other on her last day.
The next morning, Maddy fixed a breakfast casserole. We then went to see the early showing of "Avatar," which I had seen (my favorite movie of all time), but they had not. Maddy had a touch of motion sickness from the 3-D and rapid movement. For me, dragon flying brings great feelings of ecstacy. She came around when we went to Amuse Bouche for a late lunch. I believe she fell in love with a restaurant. Of course, we who live here know a good thing and frequent it as often as we can. We went to Best Buy where I cashed in a gift certificate on a web cam. After that, and downloading Skype on my desktop computer, we chatted with grands and greats for the rest of the day. Walt and I worked on making a DVD from videos taken at summer events after we looked at all of them.
Their last day, we had some birthday-gift-opening Skype calls. My Denver grands gave me a beautiful commemorative 75th Birthday book from our family gathering last year in LaJolla. Heather said it took all year to make it. What a treasure. We drove to Wickenburg for Rancho de los Caballeros' buffet lunch. I recall their brunches were better, but it was nice and neither Walt nor Maddy had been there before. Next year, we're going back to Amuse Bouche for their Sunday brunch which I recall offers eggs benedict with the best hollandaise sauce ever.
The weekend was practically over before it started. A1 Limo picked them up at 3:45 Sunday afternoon. Short, but oh so sweet.
March, 2010 ... My friend, Julie Janigian, visited me again this year. We had lunches with friends, attended a PEO meeting, shared family stories and generally enjoyed each other's company. Julie showed me a website honoring her brother, Paul, who was a Marine. It was very impressive. As long as I am here and as long as Julie can travel, she will visit me every year in early March. Julie is one of the finest friends a woman could hope to have in her lifetime.
My PEO chapter asked me to serve as treasurer another year and of course I agreed. Having done this job for so many years now, it's just routine and I enjoy it. List keeping has always been my forte.
April, 2010 - My sweet old lady dog, Cheerio, crossed the Rainbow Bridge on April 3. Only the night before, I had planned to give her a bath on Saturday morning, but she could not get comfortable and I knew it was time and made a new plan. I had spoken with Dr. John Oplinger, our wonderful vet in Wickenburg, the week before and asked him if I would know when it was her time. He told me what to look for and for the most part, she was already there. On Saturday morning, I called the clinic and arranged a time, went on my last walk with my beloved pet, then drove her to Wickenburg. I had packed a container of Haagen-Dazs vanilla bean ice cream (just an inch, melted by then) and she and I sat on the floor of the treatment room while she lapped up her favorite treat. Then Dr. O. came in and administered a tranquilizer. Cheerio and I sat on the floor, her head on my leg, and we talked. I told her how much I loved her, but that I wasn't going to let her be uncomfortable any longer. After about ten minutes, the doc came in with the final shot. She will be cremated and they will send me the ashes. Cheerio would have been 15 next month. I had Googled lots of Sheltie information and learned that experts estimated the lifetime of a Sheltie at either 12 - 14 years or 12 - 15 years. She had reached the high end.
It was getting more and more difficult for my old pet to get her hind legs under her. She struggled to get up. Occasionally, she would misstep and simply fall down. Then, she might just remain down until I lifted her back on her feet again. She might limp for awhile, then appear to be okay. Cheerio had been deaf except to just a few sounds. She would hear me cough or sneeze (that could awaken her suddenly and she would flop around not seeming to know what had awakened her). Other than that and strong clapping, she heard nothing. Her eyesight had failed to the point that she saw shapes, but didn't recognize people. Her nose never failed her. She would simply sniff me when I came home and know all was right with her world. From Thanksgiving on, Cheerio had been awakening me at night, usually between two and six times, to go out. She would spend a lot of time, sometimes 20 minutes, circling the patio furniture and getting relief. Often I would get back in bed only to be aroused again a few minutes later. After 2am, she would sleep sometimes until 8 and I would take advantage of that. I tried to never schedule anything before 9 or later. Now, the place she held in my life is empty.
It's the small things like saving the last bite of banana for her each morning (eventually, it was hard for her to grasp even a small piece in her mouth); walking past the foyer, her favorite place to sleep, equipped with her own fan and night light, and not seeing her there; sitting with her on the floor and lightly massaging her lumpy and bony old body (which never showed because of her long beautiful coat); marveling at her ability to learn my own version of sign language when she could no longer hear (she was soooo smart); having people who passed on our walks remark at how beautiful she was (that gorgeous coat took a lot of brushing); sitting on the floor of the shower with the hand-held spray nozzle and gently shampooing out the Arizona dust and dirt; responding to her polite but persistent requests for food, a biscuit, or a potty break; getting a loving lick on the hand while engaged in a petting session. No other pet would or could fill the unique void left by my beloved dog.
If another pet walks into my life, it won't be for awhile. I know, ... "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans."
Here are two pictures ... one taken in 2005, the other on her last day.
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2005
April 3, 2010