Thursday, January 21, 2010


I'm enjoying motherhood, although there have been moments when I asked Ben, "What were we thinking?" But I think it was meant to be. Taz is a delightful puppy who is responding well to training, although there have been moments that it sounded as if she had her neck caught between the bars of the kennel and she was strangling to death. My, what blood curdling screams. It's almost funny.

Not surprisingly I have been reminded of Casey and have had some emotional moments.  It's been two years, but somehow getting Taz triggered some of that missing of Casey. She was a huge part of our (Jared and my) life for 16 years, coming into our lives shortly after arriving in Washington. Part of my agreement with Jared was to get a dog soon after we moved.  Casey was a loyal friend to both of us, but because I was home more she was ever by my side, for walks, as I worked in the kitchen or at my desk, or when I slept. She was a great watchdog, there to keep me company after Jared left, and after long days at school she would be there for me when I walked through the door.

She was always there for me with her beautiful eyes, her unconditional love, her acceptance of every mood. But isn't that a dog for you. There were times I would be so exasperated with her as she was not as well trained as I would have liked. But always loyal, always sweet.

When I met Ben and Shy, she was fully accepting and loved Ben. He loved her as well, but it wasn't the same for him, obviously. His longing went toward Shy who had died a year before Casey.

A few days ago I found some fur that Ben cut off Casey's chest for me after she died. Silly and sentimental, I know. But that's not the worst of it. It was after she was buried that I asked him to dig down in the dirt and cut the fur. Fortunately, he dug directly down to her chest. Sort of a sick thing to do I suppose, but it brought me comfort. Two years later I still have the fur, and find that I still miss her.

I will always remember her as my "sweetie dog," but it's time to say goodbye to Casey (which I thought I had done) and be the best owner/mama I can to little Taz. Today I spent time in the yard with her busy chasing cats, helping me pick up stick for the burn pile (sure she was), and running around.  It was fun having her companionship. In time, I know I will grow to love and treasure her as much as I did Casey.


JoyRainbow said...

I remember when we got Seashell that it took a long time for me to love her nearly as much as I loved Feather. And even now Seashell doesn't quite fill that place Feather had in my heart. It's funny that although we love puppies and think they are adorable we don't immediately love them. You're doing a good job, Martha! Motherhood can be a bitch sometimes (maybe a pun intended), but you will get through :)

brooklyntart said...

I'm sure my father told you about our beloved Scout, who will always be remembered as the best dog in the whole world (no offense to Taz or Casey). When he died, we all wept, including my tough-guy big brother, who was at Scout's side at the vet when he closed his eyes and took his last breath. Dogs become family, they love harder and more honestly than humans can ever hope to. We can learn so much from them and the happiness they emanate. With the exception of the Dalai Lama, there isn't a single person who has the courage to love as ferociously and selflessly as our four-legged friends.

That's why I am mystified by people who don't like dogs.

Love to Razmataz, and kudos to you for being brave enough to welcome motherhood and open your heart again.