TWO DIFFERENT KINDS OF LOVE

It seems like I've spent a lot of time lately stuffing Kleenex in my pockets to sop up the tears in my eyes. Strangely enough half of those tears have been because of sadness and half have been for joy. Yes, I have friends that have said goodbye to their precious companions. I went down that road a few months ago and I still have days and nights when I can't help but miss my darling Chaucie and Melodie. The pain is still there, the questions are there too. Even as time goes on you still have a moment here and there that you simply don't want to accept their absence. As a writer and lecturer for so many years I've told many that the pain and hurt ease, but sometimes I find it hard to believe my own predictions. It's always easier to give advice than take it.

Doubts creep into your mind. Did I do enough? Did I make the right medical decisions? Could I have done more? Was I a good mom? Did I keep my human frailties, such as patience, in check? Was I too demanding? Then you always wish you could tell them you're sorry. They are so forgiving and their loyalty is boundless. So, you get caught up, from time to time, with all of these doubts. Then you pull out the tissues and wipe away the tears, hoping you did the best you could.

The one thing I've found through the years that's the hardest part to deal with are those wonderful, dedicated veterinarians who tend to be so non-committal and neutral. I must say they seem to be changing a bit. I think most of us silently beg for their support in our decisions. I am lucky to have a doctor that is very honest and mostly supportive of decisions that fall on my shoulders. I think it's her honesty, extensive information about the problem, laying out all of the pros and cons, that makes it easier for me to make those decisions myself and not expect her to necessarily point me in a certain direction. She also never hesitates to answer my questions, even if I ask them over and over. Her endless patience with me is more than appreciated. You see, as you get older and have to make these decisions about your dog's life, it doesn't get easier - it gets tougher. Trust me, I know.

The second part of this process comes when asked if you should get another puppy now or wait. Oh, how many times I've had to answer that one. I suspect vets have the same question asked of them. Nobody on earth can answer that for you....only yourself. You can really mess up on this one. Not intentionally of course. Just stop and think about the emotions that are tugging at you. Think about how unhappy you are. You want the hurt to go away because you don't want to deal with it. Sometimes even your guilt enters into the picture. Melodie died suddenly two days before Thanksgiving in 2004. I still am plagued with questions and guilt. I did everything possible for her. She lived a long and happy life doing exactly what she loved best. All I'm saying is that these things happen. Much depends on your expectations. If you want a puppy that will be just like your last dog then don't do it. It's more than likely you will be taking this darling ball of fluff back. How sad for both of you.

All of this rhetoric is leading up to the title of this post - two different kinds of love. Until last summer I didn't know that such a thing existed. Chaucie was going to be my last dog because of my age and not having any family to care for a dog should something happen to me. But I thought Chaucie would live a much longer life. However, he had a good life and was healthy, happy, and pain free to the very end. He was playing in his pool every day and didn't want to stop. We had so much fun. We loved him so much.

But it had been years since we came home to an empty house with no other dog to help us through this loss. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't think about a puppy. That was out of the question. I had to spend time getting my life back together. I hadn't even had time to mourn for Melodie. Everything just came crashing down on me.

I turned to Ragom. I found myself looking at their senior dogs that needed homes. As I went down the page my eyes stopped at a picture of Dakota. For some reason I said we needed Dakota. I sat and starred at him and read his bio over and over. Something just led me to adopting him. I don't remember any feeling being so strong. It seemed forever, but in a very short time Dakota was at our home.

He has been here now in his forever home for nearly ten months. We love him dearly. He loves us. We needed a canine companion and he needed a family. I can tell you this......it felt right from the very beginning. I never, for one minute, felt it was a gamble because of his age. I never thought I might be putting myself through another painful experience.

I do know that this is a different kind of love. We know that Chaucie would approve and is smiling down on us. I cannot explain why these two kinds of love are different but they are. They both are strong. One doesn't interfere with the other. They compliment each other. One doesn't impose on the other. There is room for both. I have never experienced anything like this and probably never will again. Some things have happened in our house that I won't go into now but we have a strong feeling that communications have gone on. It's OK. We continue to remember our wonderful times with Melodie and Chaucie and how lucky we were to have them as long as we did. Our days are filled with so much joy over the fact that we could give Dakota added life. Each day is so happy. We have picked up on his little habits and follow his lead. We spoil him and he eats it up. We are convinced he had a good home during his younger years. You can just tell by the way he acts. Each morning starts off with "wake-up time". Then it's a romp in the yard before breakfast. We are so comfortable with each other. We laugh with him and he returns with a smile on his face. Oh yes, he can smile and does. He has established unique routines with both of us. And there isn't a minute during the day where we aren't convinced that Chaucie and Melodie are smiling down on us. They seem just as close to us today. It seems like we are one big happy family.

So different from anything that I've ever experienced, we aren't questioning how this happened. We are just loving the moment. I don't ask questions, I just accept fate and embrace this wonderful happening. I'm grateful for every day with Dakota and I cherish the time I had with Melodie and Chaucie.