My sister-in-law and I met when we were 7. We were both in Blue Birds and had no idea what paths our lives would take. The last thing we never thought is that we would marry brothers, raise our children together, and then grow older a block away from each other, in a town we'd never heard of, by a lake we can't swim in due to E. coli, no /sarc intended.
There were times in our life when we grew apart and then back together. Different interests and friends threaded their way through our lives, but our friendship withstood the test of time and now we find ourselves on the backside of time. Our lifetime, that is.
But our story doesn't end there. No, there are many patches that make a quilt as fine as ours.
We added kids to our friendship, making the threads that much stronger. She had a girl, I had a girl, she had a boy, I had a boy, I had a boy then she had a boy, then she had five granddaughters before I had five grandsons. I considered myself lucky when I finally had two female grandchildren. However she now has one great-grandson and will have another if statistics hold out before I have more. We won't know the next sex of the following generation until she and/or I have that third.
Mathematically, how is this possible?
As to our dogs, we raised them together, too. This last batch, which consists of her Shadow (see above) and my Agatha Christie and Bella, are pack-mates. When my sister-in-law was diagnosed with cancer and after weeks of chemo and radiation, she was finally set to have the big surgery, and while we were scared, we were confident of success.
Shadow was dropped off at our house just before we made our way to Sacramento and the unknown. We had agreed that Shadow would stay with us so we could give her some love and let her know that everything will be fine while Mommy (OK we're pathetic, but that's how it is) is in the hospital. Amazingly, Shadow settled into our routine as if she'd spent a lifetime with us.
Shadow is a rescue. No one knew much about her except she was a little standoffish and nervous around strangers. At least until Karen came into her life. Shared love turned Shadow into a dog filled with grace who strolled the halls of Brunswick Village Assisted Care in Grass Valley spreading love and cheer to those who desperately needed it. She is and was Karen's shadow, literally, and it's where she got her name. The poor woman can't make a move without her.
Now I can't either. Except where she has one Shadow, I have three and two of the three are constantly teasing each other.
"Shadow put that baby down!" I yell playfully, thinking this must be some sort of game. Shadow has fully rolled Bella's baby bear in her spit. Bella is not happy. Bella loves her baby and Shadow has developed a penchant for stealing Bella's baby.
Well, I think, at least she's on her own bed. Bella and Shadow steal each others beds. Well, I don't know if steal is the right word, but the beds are up for grabs to whomever enters the bedroom first. I've watched them. They tease each other.
Back to my story.
Big brown eyes peer back at me as Shadow opens her jaw and Bella's baby drops onto the floor. "That's Bella's bear," I lecture. "Your baby is over there." I point toward the doggie door. "Now go get her."
With tailed tucked between her legs, Shadow gives me a sideways glance and meanders across the room to pick up her baby. Once polar bear is secure in her mouth, she drops to the floor and spits out her favorite stuffed animal as if to say, this sucks and you are no fun.
Shadow doesn't look happy and I wonder just what is going on in her mind. I swear, this dog thinks.
"Come get your baby, Bella," I yell, loud enough for Bella to hear. She's halfway deaf and by this time, she is sitting in the hallway, watching the proceedings with interest. Bella is a fifty pound black lab with a basketball of a fatty tumor on her side the doctors won't remove because of her glaucoma. She lumbers rather than walks.
Bella, with head low, clicks her way into the bedroom and sits at my feet. She opens her mouth and I put baby bear between her teeth. I pat her head as she grins (I swear), happy once again. I leave to make everyone dinner. About a half hour later, Bella comes into the kitchen. She gives me the hang dog look, and I say, "What's the matter now?"
I follow her, as she lumbers back up the hallway to my bedroom. She walks in and sits, staring at her pack-mate.
"Shadow!" I yell. "You ate Bella's baby?"
I grab my camera to take a quick picture so I can show my sis-in-law and I catch myself laughing. Shadow has brought laughter into our lives and we are so thankful. I go into the playroom and find Bella a new baby. She is thoroughly licking her newly adopted pink puppy as I start to question my sanity. Did this really happen? Can Shadow and then Bella actually be playing, teasing, and then so mad at each other that Shadow eats Bella's baby?
The rest of the evening passes uneventfully. Soon we are tired from worrying and fretting and go to bed. Agatha Christie sleeps on the bed, Bella sleeps on her bed on my husband's side, and we put Shadow's bed at the foot of the bed under the fan. She's a big dog and needs all the cooling she can get.
I start to dose off and there is a commotion next to me. I open my eyes. It's Shadow, then I think, and her bed?
Shadow looks at me, looks at her bed she's just dragged over, then lays down and goes to sleep. She doesn't like the at the foot of the bed position, apparently. She has decided to be next to me. For some reason, I feel honored. It's been a rough day. My sis-in-law is struggling and I am scared and worried. More like terrified. Yet, eventually, sleep comes. Shadow has brought me some peace.
A deep breath is followed by a snore that wakes me as a wet dog kiss laps at my hand. Still half asleep, I pull back my hand. Four times the slap of a tail hits the side of my bed. I am trying to incorporate this into a dream, but then Shadow's collar chimes. Two feet on the bed and she paws me.
"Go to bed, Shadow." I roll over and look at the clock. "It's 4 o'clock in the morning!"
I get out of bed thinking she probably has to pee, but I have the state of mind to wonder why she doesn't use the doggie door. Sometimes, my sis-in-law lets her out front, so I'm thinking that is what she wants. I switch on the hall light and head into the living room where I open the front door and say, "C'mon. You gotta go potty?"
Shadow sits on the rug and stares at me as if I am an idiot and in that moment I feel like an idiot. "C'mon!" I repeat. I think: What is wrong with you?
I swear Shadow shrugs as she meanders, and I mean meanders, out the front door. Dressed in a pair of shorts miles too big and a ragged T-shirt, I point my finger toward the pine tree. "Go pee!" I yell loud enough for the neighbors (and them some) to hear.
Shadow strolls to the tree, sniffs, squats, and pees, but it's not like she really has to go. Whatever, I think to myself as I head back to bed.
I am asleep in an instant.
A wagging tail thumps against my bed. This time, I am not playing games. "Shadow, go back to bed." I command in my deepest voice. Her tail wags harder. "Shadow, go to bed!" I swear to God she's laughing at me. I can see her teeth! She bends her head down and picks up her baby then tosses her onto the bed.
"You want to play with your baby?" I ask, dumbfounded.
Five thumps of a tail against the bed. Yeah, lady, you got it. We're going to play!
I laugh and pet her head, thinking about my sis-in-law in ICU, scared and alone. I bend down, pick up Shadow's baby and throw it across the room. "OK. We'll play."
Shadow races across the bedroom, grabs her baby, walks back, sits on her bed, and looks up at me. She groans, settles down and in seconds is fast asleep. Play, it seems, was all she needed.
****
Karen and I have spent our lives teasing each other and, on the rare occasion, (tongue-in-cheek) teasing others. We have been known to feed people cream puffs filled with shaving cream and we have offered to do someone's hair only to have it come out blue, on accident that is. Since she found out she had cancer, a large portion of laughter has gone out of her life and I, as her mirror, have had none to shine back at her. I miss her laughter. I miss our teasing. I miss cheating at card games where we take down the family because we do what they do not dare to do, and secretly laugh all the while.
Shadow was teasing me last night. Perhaps she somehow knew of the relationship Karen and I have, or maybe she just felt I needed some playtime. In her own doggie way she had fun watching me stumble to the front door and in retrospect, I smile everytime I think of it. I believe this was Shadow's way of telling me that no matter what, Karen will be all right and laughter will come back into our lives.
Oh, and as you can see below, Shadow and Bella have traded babies. Perhaps that means no more clean up of guts across the floor. And my dearest Aggie, the one who just wags her tail and shares love, really has no clue as to what is going on.
There were times in our life when we grew apart and then back together. Different interests and friends threaded their way through our lives, but our friendship withstood the test of time and now we find ourselves on the backside of time. Our lifetime, that is.
But our story doesn't end there. No, there are many patches that make a quilt as fine as ours.
We added kids to our friendship, making the threads that much stronger. She had a girl, I had a girl, she had a boy, I had a boy, I had a boy then she had a boy, then she had five granddaughters before I had five grandsons. I considered myself lucky when I finally had two female grandchildren. However she now has one great-grandson and will have another if statistics hold out before I have more. We won't know the next sex of the following generation until she and/or I have that third.
Mathematically, how is this possible?
As to our dogs, we raised them together, too. This last batch, which consists of her Shadow (see above) and my Agatha Christie and Bella, are pack-mates. When my sister-in-law was diagnosed with cancer and after weeks of chemo and radiation, she was finally set to have the big surgery, and while we were scared, we were confident of success.
Shadow was dropped off at our house just before we made our way to Sacramento and the unknown. We had agreed that Shadow would stay with us so we could give her some love and let her know that everything will be fine while Mommy (OK we're pathetic, but that's how it is) is in the hospital. Amazingly, Shadow settled into our routine as if she'd spent a lifetime with us.
Shadow is a rescue. No one knew much about her except she was a little standoffish and nervous around strangers. At least until Karen came into her life. Shared love turned Shadow into a dog filled with grace who strolled the halls of Brunswick Village Assisted Care in Grass Valley spreading love and cheer to those who desperately needed it. She is and was Karen's shadow, literally, and it's where she got her name. The poor woman can't make a move without her.
Now I can't either. Except where she has one Shadow, I have three and two of the three are constantly teasing each other.
"Shadow put that baby down!" I yell playfully, thinking this must be some sort of game. Shadow has fully rolled Bella's baby bear in her spit. Bella is not happy. Bella loves her baby and Shadow has developed a penchant for stealing Bella's baby.
Well, I think, at least she's on her own bed. Bella and Shadow steal each others beds. Well, I don't know if steal is the right word, but the beds are up for grabs to whomever enters the bedroom first. I've watched them. They tease each other.
Back to my story.
Big brown eyes peer back at me as Shadow opens her jaw and Bella's baby drops onto the floor. "That's Bella's bear," I lecture. "Your baby is over there." I point toward the doggie door. "Now go get her."
With tailed tucked between her legs, Shadow gives me a sideways glance and meanders across the room to pick up her baby. Once polar bear is secure in her mouth, she drops to the floor and spits out her favorite stuffed animal as if to say, this sucks and you are no fun.
Shadow doesn't look happy and I wonder just what is going on in her mind. I swear, this dog thinks.
"Come get your baby, Bella," I yell, loud enough for Bella to hear. She's halfway deaf and by this time, she is sitting in the hallway, watching the proceedings with interest. Bella is a fifty pound black lab with a basketball of a fatty tumor on her side the doctors won't remove because of her glaucoma. She lumbers rather than walks.
Bella, with head low, clicks her way into the bedroom and sits at my feet. She opens her mouth and I put baby bear between her teeth. I pat her head as she grins (I swear), happy once again. I leave to make everyone dinner. About a half hour later, Bella comes into the kitchen. She gives me the hang dog look, and I say, "What's the matter now?"
I follow her, as she lumbers back up the hallway to my bedroom. She walks in and sits, staring at her pack-mate.
"Shadow!" I yell. "You ate Bella's baby?"
I grab my camera to take a quick picture so I can show my sis-in-law and I catch myself laughing. Shadow has brought laughter into our lives and we are so thankful. I go into the playroom and find Bella a new baby. She is thoroughly licking her newly adopted pink puppy as I start to question my sanity. Did this really happen? Can Shadow and then Bella actually be playing, teasing, and then so mad at each other that Shadow eats Bella's baby?
The rest of the evening passes uneventfully. Soon we are tired from worrying and fretting and go to bed. Agatha Christie sleeps on the bed, Bella sleeps on her bed on my husband's side, and we put Shadow's bed at the foot of the bed under the fan. She's a big dog and needs all the cooling she can get.
I start to dose off and there is a commotion next to me. I open my eyes. It's Shadow, then I think, and her bed?
Shadow looks at me, looks at her bed she's just dragged over, then lays down and goes to sleep. She doesn't like the at the foot of the bed position, apparently. She has decided to be next to me. For some reason, I feel honored. It's been a rough day. My sis-in-law is struggling and I am scared and worried. More like terrified. Yet, eventually, sleep comes. Shadow has brought me some peace.
A deep breath is followed by a snore that wakes me as a wet dog kiss laps at my hand. Still half asleep, I pull back my hand. Four times the slap of a tail hits the side of my bed. I am trying to incorporate this into a dream, but then Shadow's collar chimes. Two feet on the bed and she paws me.
"Go to bed, Shadow." I roll over and look at the clock. "It's 4 o'clock in the morning!"
I get out of bed thinking she probably has to pee, but I have the state of mind to wonder why she doesn't use the doggie door. Sometimes, my sis-in-law lets her out front, so I'm thinking that is what she wants. I switch on the hall light and head into the living room where I open the front door and say, "C'mon. You gotta go potty?"
Shadow sits on the rug and stares at me as if I am an idiot and in that moment I feel like an idiot. "C'mon!" I repeat. I think: What is wrong with you?
I swear Shadow shrugs as she meanders, and I mean meanders, out the front door. Dressed in a pair of shorts miles too big and a ragged T-shirt, I point my finger toward the pine tree. "Go pee!" I yell loud enough for the neighbors (and them some) to hear.
Shadow strolls to the tree, sniffs, squats, and pees, but it's not like she really has to go. Whatever, I think to myself as I head back to bed.
I am asleep in an instant.
A wagging tail thumps against my bed. This time, I am not playing games. "Shadow, go back to bed." I command in my deepest voice. Her tail wags harder. "Shadow, go to bed!" I swear to God she's laughing at me. I can see her teeth! She bends her head down and picks up her baby then tosses her onto the bed.
"You want to play with your baby?" I ask, dumbfounded.
Five thumps of a tail against the bed. Yeah, lady, you got it. We're going to play!
I laugh and pet her head, thinking about my sis-in-law in ICU, scared and alone. I bend down, pick up Shadow's baby and throw it across the room. "OK. We'll play."
Shadow races across the bedroom, grabs her baby, walks back, sits on her bed, and looks up at me. She groans, settles down and in seconds is fast asleep. Play, it seems, was all she needed.
****
Karen and I have spent our lives teasing each other and, on the rare occasion, (tongue-in-cheek) teasing others. We have been known to feed people cream puffs filled with shaving cream and we have offered to do someone's hair only to have it come out blue, on accident that is. Since she found out she had cancer, a large portion of laughter has gone out of her life and I, as her mirror, have had none to shine back at her. I miss her laughter. I miss our teasing. I miss cheating at card games where we take down the family because we do what they do not dare to do, and secretly laugh all the while.
Shadow was teasing me last night. Perhaps she somehow knew of the relationship Karen and I have, or maybe she just felt I needed some playtime. In her own doggie way she had fun watching me stumble to the front door and in retrospect, I smile everytime I think of it. I believe this was Shadow's way of telling me that no matter what, Karen will be all right and laughter will come back into our lives.
Oh, and as you can see below, Shadow and Bella have traded babies. Perhaps that means no more clean up of guts across the floor. And my dearest Aggie, the one who just wags her tail and shares love, really has no clue as to what is going on.
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