05/27/2020 Another Farewell

As usual, this isn't the post I wanted to write. I started it earlier today when I was still merely contemplating making the call for Grady, our gentle giant, Tank Boy. When I was merely contemplating I was (mostly) okay with the decision, after all, it's not like it comes as a surprise. Grady turned 15 in April and, honestly, I was amazed he made it this long. He's had a few issues in his old age, but the good days have always outnumbered the bad. Over the past week, however, the scales tipped. Grady's appetite waned. He was still eating, but without his usual gusto. He slowly stopped galumphing across the yard in an attempt to keep up with Jig. And though he tried his best, he fell down frequently and needed more help getting back up. The walk in from the yard became a slow, stumbling event, and there were times

11/08/2019

I'll be honest, I've been struggling with this post for a few weeks. First it was going to be about training; where I'm at with the dogs, what I'm working on now that the clinic & trialing year is done, plans for next year, the usual. Then I thought I should really give Rebel Kitten his own post because… well… Truth of the matter is though, I'm finding it difficult to write anything other than a post more fully answering the question some of my friends have been asking. How am I doing since losing Cian? I have that post written. When I finished, I couldn't decide whether I would hit delete or publish. I did neither. The writing of it was, in itself, truly cathartic. There are reasons psychiatrists suggest people keep journals. Just getting your thoughts and feelings out can really aid in healing. Or at least

10/22/2019

The past couple of weeks have been tough. No doubt about it. Cian isn't the first dog we've lost and he won't be the last but, in many regards, he was the hardest. I want to take a moment to publicly thank all of you for the kind words, the private messages, the cards, the hugs, the support and the understanding. I've been riding the roller coaster of grief as best I can, trying not to think too much, bouncing erratically from tears to anger, most times settling somewhere in-between as I remind myself to live in the moment. In any case, healing is coming, though it's taking its own sweet time. I read somewhere that if you can tell your story without crying, you're well on your way. Guess I'm not too close to that point yet, but I've been attempting to help it along by doing those things that