Asher

All The News That’s Fit To Print

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Ash

Ash

It’s hard to know where to begin. Me and mom have been so busy teaching Journey and taking care of Shiloh, we haven’t had time to write.

Maybe that’s not the whole truth. We were busy, yes, but mostly we were living in the moment and not taking the time to think about our lives.

It’s a new year. I’m gonna be ten in February. Whew! Who woulda thought I’d ever be that old and here I am trying to raise a baby.

Journey keeps me on my toes but she also wears me out. Mom makes sure I get some time away from the little rascal so I can snooze or lie outside without Journey pulling my ears.

Journey and Asher

Journey and Asher

Last fall Journey started classes at Puppy Manners. Me and mom took Journey to class; I stayed in the car while Journey had her lessons. After class Journey would tell me all about what she learned.

Since I was home schooled I didn’t really understand what Journey was talking about. One day mom asked me if I wanted to take an advanced class. Not knowing what I was getting myself into I said sure.

This week I had my first class. It was strange and exciting and tiring. I’m the oldest mutt in the class and I put on a pretty good show, if I do say so. Mom kept encouraging me during class and afterwards gave me a big hug for doing so well. I’m learning some new moves so I can dance with mom. How fun is that??

Journey had her spay surgery just before the holidays. The poor little mutt was awful miserable for a couple days but she bounced right back.

Shiloh made it through another Christmas. That was all we wanted. It’s been a year since her cancer diagnosis so it’s a miracle that she’s still with us.

Mom had a few sports injuries recently. Journey and I were having a scrum and not paying attention. I accidentally jammed my nose into mom’s eye real hard. That sent her to the emergency eye doc the next morning.

A couple weeks later Journey and I ran into mom from behind and sent her sprawling on the driveway. She landed in a mud puddle, which seemed to irritate her a lot. Mom said we were guilty of unnecessary roughness and an illegal block in the back. What the heck? She’s been watching too much football. Anyway, all she got was a sprained ankle and skinned knees. Could have been a lot worse.

Now you know what we’ve been doing. I promised mom I would pay more attention to BarkingProse in 2016 and get Journey involved. Me and Journey talked it over and she’s game to start her own column. Heaven only knows what that little mutt wants to say, but if you check in once in a while you’ll find out.

Journey and Ash Conferring

 

 

 

Journey, Shiloh

Wishing Her Well

by  • 
Shiloh

Shiloh

Everyone says I have a pretty face. I guess so. I have dark brown eyes that betray my feelings. My cream color makes me stand out in a crowd.

Beauty is as beauty does. How a mutt looks doesn’t matter as much as what a mutt does.

Mom says my spirit is pure. I’m not sure. I have evil thoughts and I’ve done some nasty things.

I wished Tess would have an early death and suddenly she was gone from a fast growing tumor. I bit little Journey right after she arrived at Asherpark.

Mom says I can be forgiven my trespasses because of what was done to me. Maybe. It’s true my mother and I were victims of extreme cruelty. But on the other hand we were rescued, cared for and ultimately driven to Asherpark, where we were surrounded by kindness and love.

Then along comes little Journey. Born into a loving home, handled with care, and chosen at the tender age of four weeks. She came home to Asherpark just before she turned eight weeks old.

JourneySuch a cute little bug of a pup. She will grow up to be a beauty. More importantly she has the temperament to be a very special soul. She’s had every advantage: puppy classes, puppy play times, day school and puppy boarding plus the doting attention of her human mom and her Uncle Asher.

When Journey first arrived I admit I was envious. She is beautifully formed, has a pleasing disposition, and her blue eyes draw people to her.

In contrast I’m malformed, crippled, and stained with the leakage from my tumor. Journey is everything I am not. Life isn’t fair, I know that. But sometimes I just wish things could be a little more equal.

I bit Journey because I resented her and wanted nothing to do with her. Though she screamed in pain, she seemed more perplexed than angry. In fact she has never held it against me that I drew blood with my bite.

Over the past few months I have watched her grow. When she is asleep in her crate I quietly move onto the bed next to her. I watch her while her puppy dreams make her squirm and wiggle. I listen quietly as she sighs and chortles in her sleep.

Journey is everything I would have wished for myself but could never be. I have no answers, only questions. I wish Journey well. Her puppy silliness has helped displace the sorrow at Asherpark.

If I live long enough Journey and I may become friends. For now it is enough that I can watch her develop. I get a sort of vicarious pleasure when she does well.

Most of all I am happy for Asher that he has a playmate again. The Blue Dogs as mom calls them. I wish them both well.

Journey and Asher

Journey and Asher

 

 

 

 

 

Shiloh

My Autumn

by  • 
Shiloh

Shiloh

It seems fitting that my life should end in autumn. Dogs are born, dogs die. I’ve lived my life, now it’s time for Journey to live hers.

I’m not sad to have reached the end of my life. I’d like to live longer because I’m happy now, but it’s ok. You can’t have everything the way you want it.

It’s hard for people when they see my crippled body and hear my story not to pity me. But I feel no pity for myself.

I am a survivor. I survived against all odds. I survived cruelty and neglect. I survived two trips to death row. I survived near starvation and now I have survived a year since my cancer diagnosis.

Should I be bitter about the harm I have suffered? Or should I be grateful for the love and care extended to me by complete strangers? Bitterness is self indulgent. I’ve chosen to be grateful.

When you cross the bridge to a new dimension, you can’t bring a suitcase of your favorite stuff. You can’t even bring your body. Instead you leave your fur behind and only your spirit moves on.

I’ve got my spirit bag packed and ready. It holds memories of people and dogs I have loved. It’s bursting with joy over my life at Asherpark. It’s filled with longing for my mother, who promised she is waiting for me on the other side.

While I’m still in this world, I spend quiet hours thinking about the happy times I had with Ash. Even though I can’t play rough with him like I used to, I smile whenever I feel his boy energy next to me. I love that crazy dog.

But most of all I cling to memories of my human mom. In my mind’s eye I see her kneeling in front of me. As she looks into my eyes she strokes my head and whispers  how much she loves me. That’s how my life will end. The last thing I will hear in this world is mom telling me, “I love you, Shiloh.”

Until my final breath I contemplate one simple notion. “Life is but a journey; death is returning home.”¹

¹Rainer Maria Rilke