Tuesday, September 01, 2009

My Annie Blog

After an evening of wining and dining with some close girlfriends, I came home nodded to my husband who was on a business call and headed upstairs to see what I could accomplish in the next few moments before bed.

I saw the bright green "END" light on my washer and dryer so I strolled into the laundry room with all the strength I could muster after feeling rather 'blah-se' most of the day. I pulled Mr. Bear out of the washer and haphazardly set him atop the dryer. He looked so picturesque; so rugged and worn with his damp, knotty hair. And then it clicked in me as to why I wanted to run and get my camera -- he was a picture of how I've been feeling the last couple of days.

My best dog died. I just received the news roughly two days ago. I was feeling rather downtrodden and in somewhat of a 'mourning state' although I couldn't quite place my finger on it until now.

No, Annie was not umpteen years old, living with my Mom and Dad, old and greyed; she did not have a bad hip suffering from tremendous pain; she was not sick or untreatable. Annie was a young 6 years old (next Tuesday) and died of heat stroke down at her home in Tucson, Arizona. Her brother, Tucker, has been with her since the moment they were both born back in '03 and my heart saddens and wishes that I could scratch his ear and reiterate to him how much it hurts me also. Our first dogs now live with John and Meg W. down in Arizona - they are loved and adored so dearly and I know it hurts them as well that this beautiful animal we gave them not more than 2 years ago has been lost.

I cried about 10 minutes after I read the email; I cried in the shower the next day and then I've cried one other time that I can't remember very clearly. Isn't it odd how definitive death is... so odd.

Annie was the smart one. When she and Tucker were just puppies Annie LOVED tennis balls. She would carry one around wherever she went. Tucker on the other hand fell head over heals for this crazy haired stuffed toy named 'the Vet'. If he, in his tremendous naivety decided that he wanted to outsmart his sister and give her the 'what for', he would go and grab her tennis ball. She would walk into the room and recognize her brother's stupidity as he beamed over the top of her tennis ball at her; she would then go get 'the Vet' wherever it lay and walk into the room prancing. He FREAKED OUT running to retrieve his prized possession without recognizing that it had already been laid to the wayside and Annie was once again chewing on her ball.

Ahhhh... Annie. If I would one day find the likes of you again I will be a proud dog owner. Twice.

Rest in peace, dear Annie. I really think you might have been a human.

Back to Mr. Bear... oddly enough when I went in to retrieve my folded clothes after putting fresh sheets on our bed he was surrounded in gambling paraphernalia! Money and dice everywhere... must have been betting with himself on how long it would take the clothes to dry.

5 comments:

Maggie said...

Sorry to hear about your dog. I could tell when we looked at the pics last week that you really did love them. It is so painful I know- I have been there.

Maggie said...

Sorry to hear about your dog. I could tell when we looked at the pics last week that you really did love them. It is so painful I know- I have been there.

Maggie said...

Sorry to hear about your dog. I could tell when we looked at the pics last week that you really did love them. It is so painful I know- I have been there.

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