March 24th 2008 9:01 am
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Nooz fwash! Today is my 4th Gotcha Day!
Momma 'dopted me fwom da shelter four yeaws ago today.
I wish ebery houndie cud hab a gweat forebber home wike I do. Pwenty ta eet. No wurries. A cozy bed. A fur-sister & a fur-brodder. Two-weggers who fink I hung da moon.
Fank you, Momma, fer 'doptin' me! I wubs you! ;-)
February 14th 2007 4:23 pm
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[Sebastian's Note: Momma wanted to write sumfin today in memowy ob Holly, the basset who came befow me and who went to The Rainbow Bridge on Valentine's Day 2004. Dis is our Momma's twibute to hew.]
My Dearest Holly,
As I wrote on Sebastian's dogster page, you are my beloved basset-girl, Holly, who made your journey to The Rainbow Bridge on Valentine's Day 2004. You were not my first basset, sweetie, because we rescued Gus and Major years before you, but you were my first basset I raised from puppyhood, and you were my only basset-baby-girl. You were indeed "Mother's Girl." You were born on November 1, 1999. You chose me when you were a mere four weeks of age, in early December.
The first time I laid eyes on you, you were tumbling and waddling with your four tri-colored siblings in the big whelping box in the breeder's den. It was clean and warm, lined with blankets and straw. You pups were rolling over each other and trying to put yours paws up on the side of the crate. You were all making those little grunting "puppy noises." Precious beyond words!
I settled down beside the whelping box to get to know your mother a little bit. She was a lovely, healthy tri-color, and you looked so much like her. She was gentle and relaxed. I enjoyed petting your handsome daddy, too.
You were the chubbi-kins who nuzzled your nose into my neck and hair. You wiggled and pawed me with delicate paws no bigger than my own thumb, and gave me "snooter kisses," even as a tiny pup. Your wee little tail wagged and wagged. You had me, hook, line and sinker. A big puppy-breath yawn right in my face sealed the deal. :-) So, you chose me, and now I needed to name you.
Coming up with your official AKC name wasn't too hard, since you were a Christmas gift from my hubby! So I named you "Diane's Christmas Holly." You truly looked like a "Holly," somehow! We visited you every week until we brought you home at age eleven weeks. That was near the end of January 2000.
I will always cherish those brief days of your puppyhood. Perhaps the sweetest times were when you had just eaten, and you would get a drink of water then waddle over to where I sat with my legs extended and ankles crossed on the kitchen floor. Your belly was full, and you were helplessly sleepy. Slowly, surely (with only a little help from me), you would pull yourself up on my thighs and stretch out on your tummy. Then you would push your head between my elbow and my body and let out a big sigh as if to say, "Ahhhhhh, this is the life."
Well, you know what? It was "the life" for me, too! You were that basset baby-girl I had longed for all my life! Sometimes I sang a lullaby to you; sometimes we were quiet. Sometimes I was stroking your velvet-soft fur; always I was enjoying your company.
You grew from puppyhood to young-adulthood faster than I dreamed! I had lots of help raising you, too. Your older sister Jazz (the dalma-hound) and brother Farley (the tennis-ball-chasing cocker-chow) taught you some great manners, games, and life lessons. You learned to walk on-leash, sit for treats, and so forth. You enjoyed running the "Basset 500" and exploring your big fenced backyard. The two-legger boys thought you were "the bomb" and loved you like crazy! We gave you some cool nicknames: Mother's Girl, Holls, Hollifer-Wollifer, Holly-Girl for starters.
I even thought of breeding you. But it was not meant to be. We could see that you had developed an overbite. Nothing could change our love for you, but we realized that you needed to be spayed so that puppies weren't a possibility. We were convinced we needed to love you "for yourself," not for any puppies we could sell. So we had you spayed when you were several months of age, and we are so glad we did. You were happy, healthy and energetic. Such a little lady and such a rogue!
When you were about three, a couple of things happened that reinforced my thinking about breeding vs. rescue. Our cat Buzzy went missing on May 23, '03. So I began volunteering at a local shelter, in the hope that Buzzy might show up there. Every time I volunteered at the shelter, I saw the heartbreaking results of people's failure to spay/neuter their pets. I saw some things that sickened and devastated me. Some things I still can't wrap my mind around, and I still can't bring myself to talk about. In a nutshell, those animals' hopeful eyes will always haunt me. I can't forget those innocent creatures behind the steel bars, nor do I want to.
On Dec. 5, '03, our cat Buzzy miraculously showed up at the animal shelter after being separated from our family for six long months!
But within just a few weeks, our hearts were devastated when, on Valentine's Day '04, you made your sudden, unexpected journey to The Rainbow Bridge. It was a horrific accident I will never get over. You were only four years old, Holly. As we prepared to bury you, I wrapped you in your blankie and sat with you for the longest time on the deck that chilly evening. I massaged you, your paws, your sweet velvety ears. Oh, to think I couldn't touch you again until we meet at The Rainbow Bridge. I wanted to inhale you as I'd done when you were a baby, memorize everything about you, my sweet baby girl. I will always love you, always remember your rascally little ways, those dear nuzzles and snooter smooches. Oh how I miss you, even now, three years later. The tears still come on this sad anniversary, and I still miss you so very much, I can't even express it.
Thank God (and I do), I believe that, in most cases, hearts don't stay broken forever.
I continued volunteering at the animal shelter, and in the third week of March '04 (only about five weeks after you went to The Bridge, Holly), I was folding laundry there and putting it on the shelves when someone -- I don't remember who, but it was a woman, or perhaps an angel!! -- stuck her head in the doorway and said, "Diane, have you seen that little male basset up in the 'adoptable' section'? He's only 8 months old. Why anyone would give him up, I'll never know!"
I hadn't even seen this pup yet, but in that nano-second, I knew. I KNEW.
I knew somehow, Holly, that you must've whispered into God's ear, "Lord,
my mommy has a broken heart, and this little fellow can cure it! How about sending him her way?"
Then I imagine, Holly, that God's tender Hand must have caressed your dear head, and His eyes must have twinkled as He responded, "Yes, my dear! That is exactly what I had in mind. I will let their paths cross today."
So, Holly.....Sebastian's Gotcha Day is March 24, 2004, only a few weeks after
you made your journey to Heaven. I want you to know that God has used that skinny little basset boy to heal your mommy's broken heart. :-) And not only that, Holly, but now Momma has a heart for Rescues, for those fur-babies who need a forever home. For the past three years, and always "in your memory," Holly, all the companion animals in our home have been rescues who have come into our lives, and sometimes in unusual ways. You remember Jazz, Buzzy ("the cat who came back"), Buddy the labra-chow, and Leo the fluffy black kitty who grew up with you. Our new additions are Emma (the cat we adopted while Buzzy was missing) and Sebastian. Each of these family members is spayed/neutered, and each one is loved and valued for himself/herself.
Holly, when you see God again, please tell Him how grateful I am for letting my path cross with Sebastian's....and for entrusting these wonderful companions to me. And please give him your best snooter kisses! Tell Him they're from Sebastian.
With all my love, Sweet Baby Girl, 'til we meet again someday,