Goodbye Morris.

Here is Charlie helping me, sort of. He is actually just playing in the yard and amusing himself while I dig out the hostas from around the pine trees in the yard.

Those hostas needed thinning a few years ago. Yesterday afternoon was when I decided to do it.
Well, there is a reason behind it.
Morris left us in February and I couldn't bury him. I know. It sounds disgusting and strange, but there you go. We froze him.

Morris always without fail ran to these two trees and peed on the hostas or the tree itself every single morning and night. It simply was his personal place.

I wanted to spruce up that section of yard anyway. I was tired of the same old thing year after year. The hostas look great in the spring and so tired and crummy by late summer. Perhaps a nice hosta and two colors of impatiens would look good.

There was several minutes of crushing heart ache as I placed Morris in the ground. I held his head and cried like a baby, wailing just loud enough to make Charlie cry. It is with the final act of kindness and deepest love that I placed him in his favorite spot.
I'll never quite get over Morris. I never have gotten over the other pet losses I've had over the years. Each dog has always take a special part of my heart with them.

Goodbye buddy, I hope to see you on the other side.

I hope you found Badger and the two of you are reunited.

The Talk

Him: You don't want a pup during this weather you need to wait until spring.
Me: Spring is here. Look at the mud and the weather.
Him: Um. Yeah. Okay. I miss him too.

Me: Too soon?
Him: Big Shrug

I show him some dogs that are up for adoption. He smiles. He knows I can't do without a canine underfoot.

For those who want to tell me that Dixie should come in. Let us recall the size of my cottage and the size of Dixie. Dixie has been an outside dog since she was 4 months old. Let it be my decision.
I've had outside dogs for 20+ years. I've never been without an inside dog. My dog life began the summer we brought home a puppy. I could be wrong, but I think it was about 1967? We added a second dog soon after that.
I think the math puts me as a long time dog owner for what? 51 years?

Maybe I should wait. Maybe I shouldn't. I still listen for that pitter patter on the floor.
I still ache to put my hand down and find a cold wet nose.

I still ache to cuss out Morris for getting me up at 4am to go potty and then insist on eating his breakfast. It was irritating, but it was comforting too.

Me: How about this one?
Him: What is it?
Me: A mixed up dog. Young. 10 weeks?
Him: Well.
Me: Look at that ...
Him: Hmmm, looks like this litter had more than one daddy. [they can you know]

A bit later.
Me: Hey, look at this.
Him: What on earth?
Me: Daschund, beagle, and lab or something?
Him: Odd.
Me: Housebroke.
Him: Ugly, kind of.
Me: Yep. That is cool.

I do some research, this 'ugly' dog is being fostered somewhere near by. I fill out the on line application so I can be background checked. The only thing they don't ask of me is to give over my first born son.
I inquire if I can visit the dog. I'd like to meet him. Perhaps it is not a good fit. But at least I would be satisfying curiosity.

I find another two dogs. Housebroke, spade, neutered, up to date on all the...yadda yadda...
Medium sized. Hmmm. Smaller than Dixie. Energetic like Dixie. I put a note to self to email the place to see if I can drive up there. 

We go to bed and lay there talking. His mother and her situation is on our minds. Geographically I am the closest person to help her. Rich can't. But at the same time, I have him to take care of.
This winter has been extremely hard on his well being. He is becoming a bit frail. The COPD, throat cancer, and stroke are not kind to him.
He doesn't want me trying to be his caregiver and his mom's caregiver. Not out of selfishness but out of kindness. He knows how hard it is for me when he has 'episodes'.

He also understands the importance of me being able to hike and exercise for my mental and physical health.
I need to take care of the farm too. The animals need tending.

Which reminds me....looks like a good week for fence mending, fixing, and brush piling.

I may take that drive to look and see.
I may look at the 'ugly' dog.

And I may decide to wait.
Only my heart can decide.