Kickin' & Screamin'

For my few followers (I greatly appreciate all seven of you)….you know that the second of each month is particularly memorable to me.  On the second of each month, I always wake up aware of the date (unlike other days when I barely know what day of the week it is), with a great sense of expectation, wondering what the day will bring.

Yesterday was the second, and my first day back to work after the Christmas holidays.  Other than the dread of hearing that alarm clock,  I was actually looking forward to getting the second half of the school year started.  What I didn’t know was that at 6:25 last night, we would be saying goodbye to our beloved dog Jessie.  I’ve been able to think of little else today, which I’m sure was quite unfortunate for the students who came to music class today.  I tried my best to display academy award acting skills and be my usual perky self, but I kept forgetting what I saying, knocked over two drums, and spilled my water all over a xylophone.  I started crying when I saw a student whose name happens to be Jessie, and quickly retreated to the restroom, where I prayed to get a grip on the rest of my day.   I was most definitely distracted, grieving the loss of who I’m convinced was one of the best dogs to ever exist.

Driving home, Ella and I began talking about Jessie’s many wonderful qualities.  Ella said that she truly believed the world would be a better place if more humans could be like Jessie.  As usual, Ella’s wisdom struck me in a profound way, and inspired me to write about our Jessie, in honor of her sweet spirit.  If you’re not a dog person, you may as well stop reading now.  If you don’t believe that dogs go to heaven, go watch TV.  Otherwise, maybe you’ll choose to join me in the quest to be more like Jessie.

Sing a Song…

Jessie was very verbal.  Most dogs bark, some howl.  Jessie sang.  Almost every morning, she would start the day with a song…standing in the middle of the room with her head thrown back, singing at the top of her lungs–most definitely outdoing any cute dog-singing video you’ve ever seen on the internet.   The more you bragged on her with “good girl” the louder she would sing.  It was like Jessie was thankful for every new morning….every new day.   We would be dragging through the house, angry at the alarm clock, running late and seeking caffeine while Jessie stood and serenaded us with the most joyful sound a doggie could possibly make.

Jessie stopped singing as often over the last few months.  Her pain took over and she just didn’t have the song in her heart each morning.  But four days ago when Ella and I returned home from a trip to New York, Jessie sang.  She was so happy to see us, she sang and sang until she burst into a full blown howl.  She didn’t have the strength to stand for longer than a minute or two, and you could see the pain in her eyes….but she still sang.  She wanted us to know how much she missed us.  She wanted us to know how glad she was that we were home.

I wish I had appreciated her little outbursts of happiness more. I wish I had learned from her earlier…that every new day is something worth singing over.   Seeing someone you’ve missed for days is worth singing over.  Sharing your happiness is always okay.  It’s always a wonderful thing.

Choose Your Person…

When we brought Ella home from Guatemala, Jessie was 100% convinced that we had brought her home a baby girl.  Ella belonged to Jessie.  Jessie quickly decided that her new “spot” would be beside Ella’s crib, and when anyone entered Ella’s room, Jessie would growl a low and confident growl, assuring everyone that they were on her turf.  Once Ella started walking, Jessie followed her every step.  Ella would grab on to Jessie’s golden hair, no doubt pulling it to the point of pain, but Jessie never cared.  As long as Ella was nearby, Jessie was content.

Jessie never growled for any other reason.  She was most definitely the calmest and friendliest dog anyone could ever meet.  Jessie chose Ella as her person, and loved her with a passion.  If Ella cried, Jessie whined.  If Ella sang, Jessie sang.  If the doorbell rang, Jessie ran to Ella’s side to protect her.  Jessie chose Ella.  That type of commitment is rare in our human race.  If it existed more, there would be less pain and loneliness in the world–for we would all have someone who loved us enough to sing with us, cry with us, protect us, and want nothing more than to be with us.

My Ella is a social butterfly, more so than I’ve ever been…and has more friends to count.  She has always, however, considered her very best friend to be Jessie.  My prayer is for her to someday find her “person”– who will love her like Jessie did, with their human heart.

Find Your Place….

Once Ella grew a bit, Jessie moved out of her room and found her new spot in the living room, near the front door, on the air/heat vent.  All other animals and humans in our house knew this and respected it.  As much as I rearrange furniture, I would never dare put anything in the way of Jessie’s place.  She loved the way I kept the front door open almost year round.  She loved hogging the air or heat, always laying completely over the vent, claiming it as her own.  She loved the way that Ella would come and sit with her and read to her.

Sometimes we can’t find our place.  We find the general vicinity of where we want to be…but we can’t quite narrow down where our exact spot should be. Where do we feel most comfortable?  Where do we feel most safe?  Where can our loved ones find us when they need to?  Where are we when we’re so comfortable we just want to sing?  I strive to find that spot.  I strive to learn from Jessie.

Gracefully Exit If You Wish…

Jessie was particular in who she chose to spend time with.  Other than us and my mother, there are very few people that Jessie would socialize with.  If someone passed the test, Jessie would stick around (in her spot by the front door, of course) when friends or family visited.  But most of the time, Jessie would retreat to privacy once she realized someone had arrived at our home.  When we first rescued her, we assumed that she had a past of abuse that had caused her to lose trust in humans.  She loved us with all of her heart, but simply didn’t enjoy being around others.  As the years passed, I decided that Jessie simply chose a life a privacy.  If she didn’t want to be around someone, she would simply leave the room.  No growling, no barking, just a graceful exit.

I have spent a lot of time doing things I didn’t want to do.  I have wasted many hours of my life in uncomfortable situations that I would have given just about anything to get out of.  I wish I had learned many years ago how to make a graceful exit.  We aren’t obligated to stay in those situations.  We have the right to exit if we need to.  We don’t have to lie or come up with a fake excuse.  We don’t need to cause a scene.  We simply need to gracefully exit.  We need to learn from Jessie.

Jessie endured a great deal of pain in her last months here on earth.  She never growled or snapped or complained in any way.  She may have stopped singing as often, but she never lost her sweet spirit.  Jessie is running in heaven now.  She feels no more pain, and I guarantee she’s singing.  I’ve had to say goodbye to many doggies before, and sadly–I will say goodbye to more in the future.  But there’s most definitely something special about Jessie that will live in my heart forever.  She left me on the second of the month, and she took a part of my heart with her.   I watched my child say goodbye to her best friend as she cried as I haven’t heard her cry in a while….with the last time being on the second of another month–that seems like forever ago.

I strive to sing in celebration of each new day.  I strive to carefully choose my people and find my perfect place.  I strive to gracefully exit when I know I need to, and stay when I’m comfortable.  I strive to love in a way that fills a hole in the heart of others.

I strive to live like Jessie.

Run free, sweet girl.