Putting our Heads Together

Putting our Heads Together
I don't think he sees me
Showing posts with label grieving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grieving. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 7, 2022

The End of the Longest Day

At the end of a long day, you take your leisure where you can find it. That is how I captioned the picture above six years ago according to the Facebook memory notification today. I ache at both picture and caption, because today Mabel's longest day has ended, and she has been lain down for her longest rest. I can’t tell you how difficult it has been to say goodbye to her and to have her leave us. I will never be able to properly describe the loss we feel, a loss born of love.

Jean-Marie found her and fell in love with her the moment she saw her at the Humane Society when she was a volunteer. Mabel had been placed on hold by someone who allowed that hold to expire. And so it seems Mabel was meant to be with us and we with her.

I was in Winnipeg on business when Jean-Marie found her and texted me her picture and details. It was sweet of Jean-Marie to check with me before she did anything. If I said no, she would have gotten Mabel anyway I think. But I didn’t say no. I was smitten at first sight with Mabel just as she was. Of course Mabel’s name was not Mabel when we adopted her. But the name that the Humane Society gave her, Dandi, didn’t fit. Jean-Marie saw into the baby girl’s soul and Dandi became Mabel from that moment on.

Mabel joined our family, but she was the one to set the rules. Jean-Marie was Mabel’s comfort. She clung to Jean-Marie. We would often say that Mabel was glued to her hip. Mabel simply made me her man-servant. She never wanted to trouble Jean-Marie with anything and so if she was hungry, she barked for daddy. If she was thirsty, she barked for daddy. If she needed to go outside, she barked for daddy. If she needed anything, she barked for daddy. She never bothered momma. She sat with momma. Lavished lovins’ on momma, curled up with momma. She only kissed me right before bed time, and only curled up against me during the night for my abundant body heat. That was all I needed.

She was never a dog in our household. She was a person. She was a personality. Occasionally I would put a leash on her in attempt to take her for walks, but she always looked upon this act with disdain. She did not lead nor follow. She walked where she wanted, wandered on the leash up to the point that I would eventually have to pick her up and carry her for the remainder of the walk. Of course this is what she wanted.

Mabel brought joy to everyone to meet her. She loved to go out shopping with us, particularly to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and the nearby Home Depot on North Academy. As we pushed her around in our shopping cart, people would flock over to pet her, ask about her, smile because of her. She was enchanting. She was a people person.

With all of this personality, it has always been difficult for us to believe that someone had dropped Mabel off near the Humane Society at a Walmart entrance along with several other dogs. It makes us sad to even try and imagine what the first seven or eight years of Mabel’s life had been like. She did not deserve that kind of life. So we gave her all that she did deserve, and she gave back to us unconditional love in return.

Over the years Mabel has constantly made us smile and laugh. She took our hearts and kept them safe. Because rescuing a pet is essentially a selfless act, we never considered that Mabel would rescue us in return. But that is what happened. Now today, Mabel can rest after years of taking care of us. We will always miss her, we smile at countless memories of her, and we will be shedding tears at the loss of her for quite some time.