To The Pillow Born

March 15, 2012
By

Young Codie

It’s been fun reading back through Codie’s journal. She had a special way of barking her thoughts.

I wish Codie had started on her journal when she was younger, but she was busy living the life of a princess.

Before she passed Codie told me she would help me write her story. I hope she will whisper in my ear and tell me what to bark.

I’ve got a few more entries from her diary to post, and then I’m on my own. Wish me luck!

Codie’s Journal, Part II

I look back on my early days with both clarity and confusion. Was I really once so small my mom could carry me in her arms? Did I really spend my first nights with her sharing the same pillow?

I vividly recall the night I could no longer could fit my entire self on her pillow. She laughed and told me I was  to the pillow born, but I would have to find a larger one. It’s true about the pillow.

I was born in Black Diamond, Washington in June 1993. My parents were both registered Australian Shepherds. In those days we Australian Shepherds were only accepted by the herding dog registry. The snooty AKC would have nothing to do with us.

Daddy Bud was a huge tri-color Aussie. He had a gentle disposition and a love of food. Mama Rosie was a crazy red merle, who loved to play mind games with Daddy Bud.

I owe my disposition and love of food to my father.  I think my quirky sense of humor and beautiful coat can be attributed to my mother.

Daddy Bud and Mama Rosie belonged to a very nice couple who lived on a small acreage. Daddy Bud spent his days looking for something to eat. Mama Rosie tortured the resident horses by staring at them until they went insane and had to be placed with another family.

I was one of five. It was my mother’s first litter, and a planned pregnancy I might add. I was the only blue merle amongst my siblings. My human birth mother selected me as hers and thus began my relationship with pillows.

Before my eyes were open, in the time of dreamy darkness, when I could hear and smell and feel but not see, my human birth mother would lift me away from Rosie and carry me to the sacred bed. I knew it was sacred. I could feel it and smell it.

Her husband was away on business. The bed was large and empty without him. She would put me on his pillow, diapered of course, and whisper that I was special. I was the only one allowed on the pillow. I was to remain with my birth family while my siblings were offered for adoption. I was indeed very special and blessed.

But circumstances changed. The husband had to follow his job to a far away place. Bud and Rosie were placed with friends and I was offered for adoption.

New people arrived in a station wagon. Laughter and exclamations of “So cute!” were repeated time and again in my presence. I was passed from person to person for inspection. I, of course, performed my own inspection.

How the gods contrived to place me in my perfect home, I do not know. But there was my new mother, holding me and whispering sweet silliness in my ear. Soon I was in the car headed to my future. My human birth mother wept as we drove away. I was anxious but not frightened. I was ready for my new life to begin.

Leave a Reply