This blog comes from the back porch.  Everyone knows a sunny day and a back porch are inspiration.  But this blog focuses on Sadie, the yellow lab who has come into my life.  For anyone who doesn’t know, Sadie was found scavenging the Vancleave area for food, eating garbage.  When the most wonderful family who picked her up inquired, the people of the neighborhood had seen her around for weeks.  She was literally skin and bones, all ribs visible.  They took her in.  They found signs she’d been eating road kill. About 10 days later, I saw a post saying she needed a forever home.  And I know it sounds INSANE, but when I saw her picture I felt my Chloe whispering to me, “that’s the one, Mom.  She needs you like I did.”

The vet didn’t have good news for us.  She was heartworm positive.  And she’s old.  Very old for a lab.  “Double digits.”  What he said without saying it was, she’s not going to be around a long time.  That’s ok.  I can make peace with that.  And every single moment we are together, she’s making me question exactly which one of us is saving the other?

Now for a little about me.  Today was one of those days I woke up insane.  The phone went off with a text and I snapped.  Just opened my eyes and there was the Crazy Princess all up inside me.  I’m stressed, I’m emotionally raw, I am uncertain of the future….I mean, I don’t have to list for other human beings the reasons we snap.  I remember a painting I did where I copied the phrase, “Life is a shipwreck but we must remember to sing in the lifeboats.”  Damnit I try.  I go to bed with a prayer to let me do better and then what happens?  I wake up batshit crazy doing worse than the day before.  Meh, it happens.  Everything just caught up to me.  Crazy escaped.

And then when that crap settled down, I looked over.  And Sadie had slept beside me on the blanket I put on the floor all night long.  It’s a first.  Usually she comes lays down beside the bed and, as I drift off, I hear her slowly (because she’s old duh) make her way to the couch.  Which had been fine with me.  But instantly my heart and anger subsided.

When people say “labs are loyal”, I didn’t know what exactly that meant.  They don’t run off?  They always come back?  They protect their owners?  WTF do you mean your dog is loyal?!  LOL.  Now, I get it.  She’s been following me everywhere since she got here.  When this blog started, she was laying in the sun on the grass.  She came over, delivered a kiss, and then proceeded inside the french doors to lay on the tile where she can see and hear me.  Although she’s a bit deaf, she likes to always see me.  She goes looking for me around the house if I “sneak” off to do laundry or shower.  I was blowdrying my hair last night–certain the noise, similar to the vacuum she ran from–would spook her too.  As I was half done, I saw something out of the corner of my eye.  It was Sadie.  With her aging bones and arthritic hips, she came off the couch to check on me.  She then stood in the living room (I knew she wouldn’t like the sound!) but then sat and watched me.  And I could give 100 more examples how in 6 days this dog has exhibited more love and loyalty than I–the crazy person who hasn’t a clue and feels like a lost dog herself–could ever deserve.

But I came in just now from the vet with 2 pill bottles [she needs to be a little stronger for her heartworm treatment] and recalled the battle of Chloe taking meds.  I was prepared and anxious.  I tried sliced chicken (Oscar Meyer, cause we roll big over here!).  I rolled up the pill in a small bit and gave it to her.  Immediately swallowed.  Not even aware of pill #1.  Pill #2?  Just as freaking easy.  I smiled.  And of course fed her the rest of the slice. And she looked at me more grateful than ever.  And I get that look a hundred times a day.

I then came to sit out here, and she followed.  She makes life easy.  She brings a smile to my face.  The love emits from her so freely and gently.  I wish life was as easy as loving this dog.  Maybe the pill incident is a reminder that I make it far harder than it has to be.  Maybe, just maybe, I’m anxious for nothing.  They say worry is a misuse of imagination.  Which could be why I’m at a creative standstill…and yet want NOTHING more than an opportunity to be peaceful enough for some creative outlet.  Like sitting on the porch and writing.  So I beg the question, who really is saving who? [feels like a “whom” should be there but this isn’t graded, right?] 🙂