Skruffy’s Last Bark?

Breath in, breath out...
 
I remember that day as if it was yesterday, the day of the rescue. She brings you to me, sets you in my lap. I pet your head, your ears, your collarless neck. My hand roams down to your chest, and to your tummy...you bend and twist giving me access to the lower tummy as if I had been doing this all your life. She comes back to take you from my arms, you give that Skruffy growls of yours. “Oh my!” she exclaims. “What?” I ask. “She has proclaimed it already...in just ten short minutes...she owns you...” Owns me? I wonder...I thought I was rescuing her, not the other way around. She, Skruffy, is right...she owns me now. She owns a part of my heart that only Snoopy had seen before. My cats, no way...yes, they were loved, but the heart strings they never touched. Some people have a special place in their hearts for dogs...some for cats...many don't have it at all. But the dogs and cats know who you are, and they gladly take advantage of taking their own little leash and tie it right to that special place into your heart...as Skruffy had done to me.
 
Again I hear it...breath in, breath out...
 
Those cold, wet, thunder filled nights as you were lost out in that large lot before the rescue, hiding under trucks, took something from your heart girl...you never wanted to be alone again...you never wanted to be away from he, from me, the one you now owned. To work with me you came, out of desperation at first, but within days it became the norm. Eventually I could leave my office without you barking...for 5 minutes first, then ten...I don't think you ever made it to fifteen. But eventually your barking became a single solitary bark, followed by listening for my voice, sniffing to try and find my scent. Staff would come in and say, “It's alright Skruffy girl, he will be back real soon.” The Library would quiet down again, for 5 or 10...then that bark came back, followed by listening, followed by smelling, followed by yet another bark. And when I return the joy is indescribable...it was if I was gone for hours and hours, yet it had only been 20 to 30 minutes. Yes, my little girl, I am back...and quiet again reigned...until the next time I had to step out. Had my office had a hard floor instead of carpet, I would have heard the tap tap tap of your little feet as they move back and forth from excitement. Oh, how I love that sound.
 
There it is, I hear it again...breath in, breath out...
 
You eventually earned my trust, I'd let you go off leash from the car to inside our trailer at the RV Park...unless you saw a squirrel off in the distance, and away you ran despite my pleas. From tree to tree you would go as squirrels would be alerted and shoot up into the trees. Your short little legs would carry you fast and far, your ears flapping in the wind, your bark breaking the silence, except for the chirping of the birds. I followed as quick as I could, I call out to your deafening ears, but eventually your lungs give out, your legs grow tired.  You turn and look at me like, “Why are you breathing so hard, it was I who was running all around? But did you see them, did you?? Squirrel after squirrel, and they all ran up into the trees afraid of little me!” When the library was closed and it was only us there, I would let you go off leash from the car into the Library, or from the Library to the car...until that one Saturday evening when you saw a wedding carriage being pulled by a pair of horses, way across the huge parking lot, heading to the hotel across the street for their reception. Off you ran, barking and barking...I could only imagine how much larger each of those horses started to look as you got within 90 yards, within 70 yards, because around 50 yards you stop...you give them your three Skruffy Barks, you turn and walk triumphantly back to me...wondering why I have my hands up to my brow shaking my head back and forth as you walk, head raised high...but then you stop, look back and give another Skruffy bark. You come to me, stop short looking at me like, “Well, I doubt they will mess with Skruffy again!”
 
And again...breath in, breath out...
 
Then into our lives came two others. “Who is she, and does 'he' have to come with her?” you wondered. “Yes I have found another to share my life with, but don't worry, my dear Skruffy, you still own me. And as for 'he', he is Bubba...your new brother, but don't worry, you are still going to be the queen.” Within a year the Library becomes a retired memory, and now even more travels. Before Marcia and Bubba came into our lives, we had traveled up to Missouri to visit papa and grandma a few times, and you even went with me to Denver for some meetings that I had—remember you went to the Doggie Daycare, where I could watch you over the Internet while listening to speaker after speaker in my meeting talking about Library stuff. After Marcia and I married, there were times she needed to be in Florida while you and I still had to work at the Library. We would travel back and forth to Florida during those times. If we stopped so I could get some rest, you would watch out the window protecting our little car. Oh how I will miss those barks that awoke me so many times. But now we have a motorhome, and the real travels begin. 
 
A bit fainter now...breath in, breath out.
 
Our first trip took all four of us to many fascinating places...the large trees of Sequoia, the wonderful walls and falls of Yosemite, the tall Coastal Redwoods, the deep blues of Glacier Lake, the waves along the Oregon Coast, the aroma of the Roses in Portland, the devastation of Mount St. Helens, the elk and buffalo of Yellowstone, the Mountains of Glacier Park. We saw bears, goats, sheep, deer, elk, buffalo and antelope. Future trips over the next few years included places like Zion and Arches, the balloons of Albuquerque, the homes of Mesa Verde, the deep dark forest of Olympia, names on rock walls along the Oregon Trail, cheese and ice cream from Tillamook. Every time we stopped the motorhome, there were new smells, new places to mark, new adventures for you and Bubba. Of course, there was always your favorite place of all...the backyard of Sandy and Arnys...where the squirrels were so close you could touch them, the grass so green and luscious that you could lay in it, treats so plentiful, and so many family and friends around. You could be trusted completely now, and off leash you would run over to Papa’s and Grandma's since they moved back to California and lived next door to Sandy. Of course, I overlook that time you, off leash, you decide to take off up the hill while visiting the Redwoods...or at that large park in Oregon where you saw some squirrels off in the distance...and into the distance you ran until your little legs got tired and you walk back to me who was in chase.
 
Fainter still...breath in, breath out...a hesitation.
 
You earned your badge in later years, you became a Service Dog for Marcia, to assist with certain needs. There were always those few months where you were needed at the Condo, no brother around, you had us to yourself. Then winter would be over, and off we would travel again. You heard me calling out for a long drive north, to Alaska I say, where there would be so much space, so many things to see, clean air to breath, and so many animals. But it was there that a new frontier opened up. A sore at first, then near death which tore my heart wide open, until we found she, the fisherman of small dogs, who tries to bring you back to us so that we could enjoy more time, more travels, until that last breath, that last hesitation which does not stop, the cold taste of death. And then I will be owned no more... free from your dedication, your love, your barks, your scratches, your walks. Then it will be your time to play with Snoopy, no pain, never fearing to be alone again. 
 
A bit stronger now...breath in, breath out...
 
That fisherman, she is not only a great fisherman, but she is also a great veterinarian. She sits up with you way after hours, she instantly falls for you, just as so many others have. The right dosage of this, the right amount of liquid food to run through your veins. All the while I have put out word onto our blog, on Facebook, through text messages and phone calls (though the calls are few since it is hard for the words to come out)...PRAY for our little Skruffy Girl! A few days later, after many visits to see you, after many prayers too numerous to count, you come home with us. It is struggle, but you are calmer at home, you sleep, you start to eat, you start to recover. Then the set-back hits...it is 4^th of July weekend, but we handle it, and you get stronger yet. Finally the news today...test show you are in full recovery...the cold taste of death will need to wait for another day...many years as far as we are concerned. But the thought of losing you...the thought of being free...why does it hurt so very much? I don't want to break those chains which are connected to that part of my heart. I now have a taste, again, of what it will be like to have that part of my heart empty again, I don't like it – the ache is beyond description. How fortunate we are that we found the Soldotna Animal Hospital, found that fisherman of little dogs who goes by the name of Meezie, and how blessed we are that God has heard and answered those many prayers. My heart is filled with joy...the ache will need to wait for another day...another year...many years I hope.
 
Much stronger now...breath in, breath out...and there it goes, “BARK, BARK, BARK”, yes, the Skruffy bark is back, it is like music to our ears, it warms the heart just so... Last Bark? Nope, many more barks to come!

The Trip to Alaska Continues on Saturday

We came to the Sacramento area this particular time of the year to enjoy birthdays with my mom and dad.  Mom had her birthday on Monday, but we celebrated on Sunday…and although I had my camera out and even inside my sister’s house, I failed to take even one picture of the event.

I picked the above picture because it reminds me of my first dog, a family dog while the five of us grew up in Sacramento.  Her name was Snooper, but we also called her Snoopy.  A Terrier/Chihuahua mix, she was a smart dog.  Mom would send her down the hall to “wake up the kids” each school day, and she would run into each room barking, licking faces, and getting us up.  She hated people in uniforms…going after the mailman each day, the garbage men, the meter readers, and even my brother in his Army uniform until she realized who it was.  I don’t have a picture of her, but this picture to the right from the Internet gives you an idea of what she looked like.  So why the picture of the dog eating cake?  Because one Christmas Eve, mom had a freshly baked Pineapple Upside-Down Cake sitting on the dinner table, which was half gone when we got home.  Snoopy had jumped up into a chair, onto the table, and had eaten a good portion of the cake.

    

Of course, that was then…this is now.  Two dogs, Bubba and Skruffy.  They get their “Arny” treat in the morning around 7 am, and their “Sandy” treat in the afternoon around 4 pm (when she gets home). 

And of course, there is the “night night” treat each evening when normally Arny, but sometimes Sandy, gives them their nightly treat… 

…a small amount of Vanilla Ice Cream.  Then there are those family meals… where things mysteriously fall onto the floor, or a hand goes under the table.  Yep, they are spoiled little dogs when we visit Sacramento.  Took Bubba to the Vet today due to an ear infection, and the had gained 2-3 ounces...vet said he is the perfect weight.  Skruffy, well if we weighed her, she would still be over weight, but she has lost some of her back side due to the chasing of the squirrels.

The plan was for Marcia and I to take mom and dad out to lunch on her birthday on Monday, but unfortunately that “health bug” got to her, and we needed to postpone it.  Ever since she has been on her new medication for the Breast Cancer treatment, every so often she wakes up and just feels like Skata for a day or two.  Thank goodness it was only for a day this time, and since Arny had dinner planned for Tuesday for all of us (Fish Tacos by Arny, Lemon Shrimp by Marcia), we waited until today (Wednesday) to take mom out for her lunch.

   

Those who have been to one before know by the cell phone picture above just where she wanted to go for lunch…to the Spaghetti Factory, in Roseville.  The first Spaghetti Factory was opened in Portland Oregon in 1969.  Sacramento has had a Spaghetti Factory since the mid 1970’s, and I have been to Spaghetti Factory’s in at least three different states now.  Some are in old Railroad Stations, and I like these ones the best.  The one in Roseville is not an old station, but they still decorate it with a railroad motif.  Spaghetti all around excpet for me, I had Lasagna.  Marcia ordered a large order of Fresh Broccoli, which is lightly flavored with Mizithra Cheese, which she is “reaching for” in the above picture.  We came home with some of the Broccoli, a 5 oz container of the Cheese, and Marcia is so appreciative of Aunt Florence for turning her on to the Broccoli at Spaghetti Factory.

We leave on Saturday from Citrus Heights, headed to see my daughter Stephanie in Utah for a couple of days, then up to the Tetons, and over to Theodore Roosevelt National Park. By mid-May we hope to be in the Jasper / Banff area in Canada, and by June 1st, on the Alaska Highway headed north.