BarkingProse

Today is off to a good start. I made it through the night without an accident. I staggered from my bed to the kitchen door and made my toilet outside without soiling in the house.

It’s so embarrassing when I have accidents. Yesterday the runny poops surprised me and I dribbled all over the living room rug. The other mutts crowded round to smell the mess while I quick stumbled outside.

I never get scolded for having an accident. My people know I don’t do it on purpose. Mom says when I mess in the house at least she knows that my plumbing still works. I go outside about every two hours during the day, but that’s not always enough.

This morning I got an extra helping of pumpkin to keep my poops solid. Mom buys huge cans of pumpkin by the case. Me and the other mutts like it mixed with our homemade grub.

It’s getting harder for me to get around. I fall down a lot but then I pop back up. It upsets people to see me fall, but usually it’s no big deal. The other day I fell into a rack of plastic containers. That sure made a lot of noise.

I know my days are numbered and the number is small. I have my feet in this world but my eyes are on the other side of the bridge.

Codie comes to check on me nearly every night. She wants to make sure that I am not in pain and that I want to stay in this world.

I definitely want to stay for now. My nose works just fine and it helps me find the two things that matter the most – my grub and my people.

This morning I could tell that mom was feeling down, so I asked her what was wrong.

“Nellie, it makes me sad to see how hard you struggle,” mom said. “You can’t see, you can’t hear, you can barely walk. I worry about you Nellie.”

Suddenly a whole bunch of thoughts came tumbling out. I tried to tell mom that the past is over. What mean things people did to me many years ago have been erased by kindness.

Since I came to Asherpark no one has said a harsh word to me. Every hand that touches me is gentle and loving. One lady even took my picture so she could paint my portrait.

I remember how I felt during the dark days, but my new life is all that matters now. So I take it one day at a time. I know Codie will come get me when it is my time to cross the bridge. But today I’m looking forward to an extra helping of grub. One day at a time…..life is so very good.

 

Last summer I had my third vertigo attack since I came to Asherpark. It was a doozy. I got so sick and dehydrated I had to go to the hospital.

When I was released from the hospital I could not eat or drink on my own for nearly three weeks. The whole pack cheered the day I stuck my snout in a bowl of food and ate it without being hand fed.

I’m not a tidy eater. My messed up brain makes me pretty uncoordinated. I grab a mouthful of food, throw my head in the air, and gulp like I’m snapping at flies.

That makes for food splashed all over the walls and floor. The other mutts love it and clean up after me. I don’t mean to dwell on my problems. It’s just to let you know I’m still struggling.

When I came home from the hospital mom sat down next to me on the floor. She asked me if we could talk about living and dying and what happens when it’s time to cross the rainbow bridge.

I told her we could talk about anything she wanted, but crossing the bridge does not concern us mutts. She nodded and said it was much harder for people to accept.

Mom told me she wished I could have found her when I was still a little mutt. She said we could have had so much fun together.

People are strange. They talk about the past and worry about the future. They’re so busy thinking about stuff that didn’t happen they sometimes miss what’s right in front of their nose.

I knew mom wanted to tell me something special, so I stayed real quiet. She took my head in her hands and brushed the dried food off my ears.

“Nellie, when Codie comes to guide you across the bridge you have to leave your old worn out body behind.”

I was relieved to hear that because my old worn out body doesn’t have many miles left in it.

“When you cross the bridge, we will honor your memory by cremating your body,” mom said. “Your ashes will stay with us as long as we are in this world.”

This all sounded fine to me. I can’t wait to meet Codie and her friends on the other side of the bridge.

Mom could tell I was getting bored, so she asked me to listen just a little longer.

“Nellie, we want to put your ashes in a sacred urn. You are such a beautiful soul, Nellie, you deserve a beautiful resting place in this world.”

I was afraid to tell mom I had no idea what she was talking about. I had never seen an urn. She must have read my mind because she told me to stay put and she would fetch the urn for me to see.

Mom brought the urn to me in a box. As she opened the box mom told me her dear friend Julie is a famous potter. Julie made the urn and mom purchased it for my ashes. Mom said we are blessed to have such beauty in our home.

For once I was getting annoyed with mom. I just wanted her to hurry up and show me the urn. At last she did.

I could not believe my eyes. I had never seen anything as perfect as the urn. To think it is for me and it awaits my ashes when my physical self is finished in this world. A part of me will stay at Asherpark forever. How amazing is that!

I feel as if I am rooted in this world but my soul is contemplating our next destination. I will do as Codie asked and be mindful of the transition. I cherish my life, however limited it is, and await my journey across the bridge.

Before I pass I would ask you to look at this site: Julie Reisner Ceramics. Once you have seen Julie’s work, you will understand what it means to know my ashes will come to rest in her beautiful urn. You cannot help but see the magic she created when clay and fire combined to form a sacred vessel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My life has had so many twists and turns, mom says I could have written my own novel. From a filthy death row stray to a pampered princess, my life has been a surprise in so many ways.

As the end of the year approaches I’m excited to celebrate Christmas again. I’m not a religious mutt, but Christmas holds special meaning for me. Last year on Christmas day I was officially adopted into my pack.

My mom and dad said I was their special Christmas present to each other. They tied a red bow around my neck and said I was part of the family forever.

I was so overwhelmed I could barely stand. In fact I think I stumbled around the room and collapsed in a heap on the rug. Mom took pictures, but I was shaking so much they all turned out blurry.

I have lived at Asherpark since April 2011. The shelter people told mom I wouldn’t live six months, but I’ve outlived that stupid prediction many times over.

I don’t know how old I am – maybe sixteen. It’s hard to tell because I’m so used up. Mom thinks I was hit by a car. I’ve got signs of old injuries and my brain is messed up. But I’m not so worn out that I can’t enjoy my life at Asherpark.

My day job is to follow mom everywhere she goes. Boy, does she move around a lot. Sometimes I get so tired trying to keep up with her, mom closes me in the studio by myself so I can take a nap. I don’t mind being alone. I know somebody will always come get me for dinner.

Jack and Tess get freaked out when the people leave us. Jack moans, Tess runs in circles. That silly behavior is a waste of time. I just curl up and sleep until the people come home.

Last night Codie came to me in a dream. Remember Codie is my spirit guide. She’s the one who arranged for me to come to Asherpark.

Codie told me I should prepare for the time when I join her in the spirit world. She wants me to keep a journal and be mindful of how happy I am in my forever home.

Codie told me not to worry. She said I would feel no pain as I leave this world, but my people will weep when I leave them.

I will do as Codie asks. She saved me from an early death and sent me to her people who still mourn her passing.

I am not to talk with Tess or Jack about what Codie told me. Only Asher can know what lies ahead. It will make his dear little boy heart break to lose another blue dog. Perhaps Codie and I can find someone to help fill that emptiness.

There is much to do, for I have not yet reached the end of my story. I will bark more in the days ahead.