BLACK FLASH: COLD NOSE, WARM HEART

After my Heart and Grandlove leave, this little, sweet guy gets up in my lap for some one-on-one cuddling.  He faces me and I can read that expression, so well, "Hey, you guys, I love you!" 

We've left his winter coat grow out and once Spring is here, he'll get his fancy grooming and this rag-mop look will be gone.  I trim around his black-button eyes and a few other "personal" places, but daily brushing keeps the tangles at bay.

SO MUCH RAIN: SO MUCH FUN

Bentley absolutely loves the rain, mud and digging.  He feels that it is his duty to dig as much as he can, as fast as he can and for as long as there is mud.  The end result is that half of our yard winds up embedded in his thick fur.  Baths consist of water, shampoo and scrubbing.  For him baths are tolerated and not enjoyed.  He did smell wonderful after he received his bath and then his hour long comb out made his coat shine.  He goes to "his happy place" during the whole grooming process, and I try to make it as pleasant as possible.  He is so different from our Cubby, who hated moisture in the yard and adored his baths, brushing and grooming. Bentley is a good boy and makes us laugh every day.  We were saved by this little boy, with the crooked smile and happy tongue.

WORN OUT: RECHARGING

Not long after daughter and Grandlove left, Bentley claimed his comfort spot and passed out.  He had to be with the baby throughout the entire visit and fretted constantly when closed doors kept him separated for all the action.  Kissing the baby, catching flying food from the high chair and getting belly rubs kept this little guy on high alert for the duration of the visit.  His "nap" lasted for quite a long while and a few squeaky, sleepy yips punctuated his dreaming.  If he could talk, he probably would let us know that he likes it when the company comes, but he LOVES it when they go home. 

SUFFERING HEROES: WE ALL SHOULD BE SO BRAVE

These two brave soldiers' scars don't show, unless you look deep into their eyes.  The war is claiming too many young people and the dogs who give all to keep everyone safe.  Suffering PTSD, whether the canine version or human type, is one of the price of "WAR".  Too costly for too many.

MORE ENTERTAINING THAN POTATOES: C-PAP MASK

You know that sickening feeling when there are mischievous beings (toddlers, teenagers, pets) in the house and it's quiet and no signs of life nearby, yeah, that feeling. I had it. I turned to Hubby and asked, "Where's Bentley?"

Rushing towards the bedroom, he was mumbling, "I was afraid of this."

Wisely, deciding not to follow my husband, I just waited. I was soon made aware of what had been entertaining our robust little guy. It seems that my husband had left the bedroom door open and Bentley had jumped on the bed, where he found the c-pap mask.

Bentley came bounding out of the bedroom unaware that his entertainment for the last few minutes was an expensive piece of crucial medical equipment in our household. Great restraint kept harsh words from addressing the permanent damage to the squishy blue parts of the mask.

Until the doctor's office opens tomorrow, my artistic talents and a handy roll of medical tape pieced together an older worn out mask. The victim of Bentley's entertainment didn't have enough left to piece together, so luckily we had an older mask that had previously died a natural death.


As I type, the energetic boy, with the panting tongue, is still bouncing around, unaware that he is lucky to have such a forgiving master. No harsh words (yes, we did talk to Bentley about his misbehavior) and for sure no hitting. We (read "Hubby" here) will have to be more diligent with doors and keeping chewable items out of the exploring jaws of our little boy.

Potatoes okay to explore; C-pap masks not so much.

BENTLEY'S TOYS: Not found at Pestsmart

To update the readers who are interested in Bentley's adjustment to our family, the pictures above are representing Bentley's new "toys." Let's be clear, he does have store bought; inherited from Cubby; and toys given to him from his rescue shelter. Those ropey, chewy, floppy toys are enjoyed with gusto, but quite frequently Bentley seeks out other amusements. When he's quiet, I know that I have to rescue some forbidden object. Luckily, Crocs are durable and since I rescue them quickly, teeth marks have been slight.

On the other hand, the baby's blocks have "magically" appeared in the front yard and teeth marks have been left as proof of enjoyment. Since the Grandlove only has four little stubs of porcelain perfection, then the only logical suspect can be Bentley. His waggling tail expressed his delight as my husband hunted the yard for brightly colored blocks. Only two have been found, so far, but we'll see if other have been buried.

The other night, I prepared potatoes and when I returned to the kitchen to check on the boiling progress a whole potato had been retrieved from the bin and left on the floor for me. I guess Bentley thought the kettle wasn't full enough. Shaking my head and laughing I replaced the potato to the bin. No other time does Bentley get into the bin, except on the nights when I cook mashed potatoes. Funny little guy. I know that I have said this before, but I swear Cubby must be "channeling" his love for potatoes to Bentley and he's acting on this energy.

So, until next time, that's a little bit of Bentley's world. He is a charming, black streak of lightning who is still bringing joy to our world. We are grateful and healing.

DAY TWO: He's already helping us to heal

Many will walk in and out of your life, but only a true friend will leave paw prints on your heart.

~Anonymous


We have spent twenty-four hours with our new family member and he's already leaving his footprints on our desolate hearts.

Throughout the day, his inquisitive mind let him begin to explore the yard, the stretchability of his "bird toy" while he kept coming by to make sure that I was still part of his world. A quick scratch, silly words or reassurance helped him relax and accept this as his family.

At the end of the day, I introduced him to the nightly tradition of waiting on the front porch and then running to the gate to greet his "daddy." After a quick rewind of his memories of the morning, our little Bentley arrived at the gate with a wiggly, prancing, "Hello, welcome home." Smiling and a little playing on the floor began to ease the oppressive sorrow from my husband's shoulders.

Stay tuned, because we are new in this healing and I know we aren't alone.

Thank you for all the reads, posts and good wishes.

Warmly, Ferret

DAY ONE: Our new adventure begins

We picked up our new baby today at the animal rescue shelter. Since the last time we brought home a dog it was to bury him, I wanted to make sure that my husband met me there. He walked Bentley to the truck with the usual orders, "Load Up." A boost up and a looped leash to the handle secured Bentley to the passenger side. A wide smile took over the sorrowful face of my husband. Following him out of the parking lot, I saw him releasing the leash and allowing his new copilot to relax in his lap. Once we got home, he said that Bentley was a bit nervous and being in his lap relaxed him. Training for the driver will continue.

Took these quick photos of our new little guy. He comes to us without any known history, so we are making it up as we go along. It's easy to see that even though he's little, he is full of love, energy and adventure craving genes. Quick adjustments to the gate into the backyard, because his curious nature helped him squeeze past the post.

Even though his first year of life must have been anything but "puppy friendly" he'll learn to play, trust and love. Toys are new to him, but our family is patient and playing can be taught. In fact, I just heard a tentative squeak from a toy behind my chair. We left one of Cubby's toys out and he became interested in this duck earlier today. A couple of new toys, a brush and lots of attention have entertained him today.

I must say that tears are just below the surface, still and yet when I hold this needy little guy I find that I have plenty of left over love to give Bentley.

BRUISED & BREATHLESS:OUR HEARTS STILL BEAT

Our precious boy will always be this way in our hearts and memories. Eager to play; eager to cuddle; eager to test patience with trash scrounging; eager to have a leash attached and begin an adventure. With his loss our hearts have to be reminded to beat and our breath is forced out of our lungs by sheer willpower. We are so incredibly saddened. Relying on each other for strength is the only way we can put one foot in front of another this past couple of weeks.

My husband actually apologized for being so depressed this week. He revealed that he has never felt as bad as he has because of our loss. Cubby wasn't just a dog; he was an integral member of our family.

Come Monday, when we bring home our new family member, the energy level in the household will be ratcheted up a bit. Having just gone through his neutering process, our little guy will welcome sharing my recliner. We will wait on the porch for my husband to come home from work and greet him. Seeing a smile on my husband's face at the end of a long, stressful day will help my heart to relax and begin to heal. Teaching our new guy to "load up" into the truck for rides will be a skill that is sure to lighten his new master's heart. The enormous weight resting on our chests will lessen the more that our new little guy adjusts to our family. He wouldn't be able to find a family more in need of his warm licks, soft fur and wiggly tail than us.

We do realize that no matter if we found a dog exactly the same color, same breed, etc. there will never be the same dog as the one we lost this week. We can only hope and pray that our hearts will begin beating soon, with the power of unconditional love that only a four legged member of the family can give.

My husband did say that he will continue the search to find the exact same dog as the one we buried, yesterday. He and I both know that it would be impossible to duplicate our sweet boy, but as fresh as the pain is, he is allowed his fantasy. Whatever it takes to get through the days and nights right now.

IMBALANCE OF ENERGY: LIFE WITHOUT A SHADOW

Since our little guy has been at the vet's there's a different energy in our home. I catch myself waiting for him to come in and wake me in the morning (a regular event.) My husband and he are usually up much sooner than me and at a precise time the two fuzzy headed boys come in my bed for a quick snuggle. It takes the two of them and the promise of a hot cup of coffee to get my day off to a great start. I still am awaken by my hubby and the coffee, but the joy of rising is missing. No one can show such excitement over daily routines as much as my little four-legged furry friend.

Ever alert, the crinkle of a food wrapper can cause him to suddenly appear, his black shoe button eyes tracking your every move. Peel a banana, cut up fresh vegetables or even uncap the toothpaste tube and you would have a little companion.(Needless to say, from now on No Human Food will ever cross his smiling lips, again. That pact has already been signed, sealed and delivered by both my soft-touch hubby and myself.)

So, obviously, this week, all of our daily tasks haven't had the attention of our little shadow and he is so dearly missed. We are anxiously awaiting the latest report from the doctor's office, tomorrow. Hopefully, by mid-week, we should have him home. We don't want to even consider the alternative.

Keep the good thoughts and well wishes sending his way and I will keep you all updated.

GUILT: WORRY'S COMPANION

When I look at these pictures of my dog relaxing at home, I can hardly keep my heart beating because I feel so guilty. At this time he is fighting a fierce battle to stay alive. On Tuesday I was cooking and gave him the ham bone and with that simple act our whole world turned upside down. Even though I was keeping an eye on him, he managed to get the gristle stuck in his throat. My fingers were almost behind the piece of pork in his throat when his jaws' pressure caused me to flinch. He managed to swallow the pork; I called the vet and quickly got him into town.

Trying to remain calm and reassuring at the same time made the twenty minute journey seem endless. Once at the vet's office, the girls reassured me that it would be okay, but still my tears flowed.

As I was pulling out of the parking lot, my husband arrived and I filled in the details left out of the previous quick call to meet me there. He accompanied me back into the office and the vet came out and explained that we'd be surprised in what dogs were able to ingest and still expel. Still I felt guilty, because I had willingly handed him the bone. Travis (our friend and vet) smiled and said, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I once almost killed my daughter because I gave her a whole grape." Strangely, somehow that story did relieve me of some guilt.

Each day we waited for "and this too shall pass". Unfortunately, yesterday surgery was deemed necessary as no food could be consumed and kept down. Post surgery report was mixed. The gristle wasn't that large, but it was removed. More importantly was the irritation of the gut. It seems that our precious pooch is now having to recover from Pancreatitis; which in itself can be lethal. Report this morning is that our pooch can't hold down anything yet, but he is on IVs for nourishment. He's alert and responsive. It truly is a "touch and go" situation at this point. He is our little guy and I hurt, because he's struggling to get better.

For those of you who don't understand that a pet is more than a companion who eats, sleeps and lives with you; I can't explain the bond we have. He is ornery, gets in the trash, snuggles on his own schedule and pouts when denied car rides. On the other hand, when our Grandlove is here, he is attentive, kind and patient. When I had surgery, he was gentle and quiet with his presence. At the end of a long, stressful business day, he is ready for a stare down as you enter his domain. His belly and underarms are always ready for a gentle scratch. Brushing and trimming his long hair is soothing to him as well as the person lucky enough to be holding the brush. His grunts of approval are his payments when you've found the right spot with the brush after his weekly bath. Deep, black pools of black shine with love as he looks to you for attention.

He is more than a pet; he is the owner of our love and devotion.

My Best of any Show: Not so miniature Yorkie

Watched the Westminister Dog show a bit last night, but my four-legged companion couldn't keep his eyes open. He passed out in his stylish sweater and only stirred when he heard the click of the camera.

Oh, when I come back in my next life, I want that easy-breezy dog's life.