www.beavercreekfarm.co

www.beavercreekfarm.co 

Hi Everyone!

Due to unsolvable problems with Blogger my friend Chris and I have created a brand new website for the Farm Stories. Please check it out at www.beavercreekfarm.co

Make sure you type .co and NOT .com

I've really enjoyed blogger, but they're having problems that makes it impossible to change the layout or add pictures. I hope you'll join us at the new website! You can just click on the link.

www.beavercreekfarm.co

That is the name of our farm!

Thank you to Blogger for getting me started and I wish we could have continued as it was a fairly user friendly site. Thanks everyone and see you at the new site!

From all your friends from the farm!     www.beavercreekfarm.co

Elmwood

It's a Tuesday night and we're off to dinner with friends on Elmwood Avenue in Buffalo. I've had a horribly busy weekend and I'm tired. I got up early today to do a transport for dog rescue. The pup is an adorable and horribly misunderstood chihuahua who now has a second chance at a Canadian Rescue.

For as good as I feel about the transport I'm brought down by fatigue. I come home and try to nap for an uneventful hour before I get up and shower.

As we drive across the border I confess to Brent that I'm exhausted. Too tired for this adventure, but since we're already on the move I'm game. He confesses that he's tired too, but very excited about the prospects of dinner on the town. We rarely go out for meals. It's a bit of challenge to afford the farm, so we limit our spending. It's worth every chicken dinner in.

We arrive at the restaurant and see our friends through the window seated at a table. The place is small with lots of home art on the walls and I'm instantly taken. I feel energized as I walk to the table and am welcome with smiles and delight. Ah... to be accepted.

It feels good to be in a mix of family and friends with everyone talking at once and holding several different conversation. The restaurant is small, cozy with fantastic food. I couldn't ask for a better venue or better friends.

I wish I would have spent more time on Elmwood as a young adult. It might have made a difference.

The end part is my favorite with Lynn telling childhood stories. I'm delighted with her generational tales that seems to transcend time. Perhaps I cling greedily to her words seeking my own comfort, but Lynn is so generous she doesn't mind me soaking up her positive energy.

This is a woman who has found herself and is accepted into her community and her family. She's the one who gave me the wonderful words of comfort when I lost my Gizmo. Lynn said Gizmo was so happy running he didn't realize he'd run straight into heaven. Her words help to heal.

I look forward to my visits with Lynn with an enthusiasm that is a dim reflection of my youth with horses. Don't be offended Lynn, horses were my salvation. Don't be intimidated either, I don't expect you to be my salvation. I would never expect that of one person.

I am grateful to have these friends and family and I want to say thank you. When I came home that night I heard some sad country songs that reminded me of my Gizmo and had a good cry before Jax began some wonderful antics and drew me out of my grief.

I poured a glass of red wine and sat on the floor and listened to by puppies snore for a little bit before retiring to the comfort of my bed. Thank you friends. Thank you family. Thank you puppies. I'm a lucky person. 

I look forward to my next meeting with the gang from number eight. I just hope Bella can make it this time. 

Mud Taz

It has been raining for days and the ground is saturated with ankle deep puddles that wreak havoc on regular shoes. Rubber boots are in order at the farm. Super Taz Adventure Puppy loves the bad weather and has no problem splashing through huge mud puddles and then dashing into the house and jumping on the leather couch. At least I can wipe it off.

There was a five minute reprieve of rain where the sun came out and I sat outside reading the flyers.  I saw Taz out of the corner of my eye running at mock five diving head first into the puddles and racing through the mud. She ran back and forth across these banks of mud puddles for several minutes while I watched, laughed and soaking up a few rays of sunshine.

When I brought her into the house she looked like I'd coated her belly with chocolate pudding. She was coated with thick wet mud and was quite proud of herself.

I pick her eight pound body up and the first thing I noticed was she was shivering from being cold and wet, but the second thing I couldn't help noticing was the mud oozing out from between my fingers. It was that thick.

She looked something like this:

This is a puppy story written for a little girl who's mom is a co-worker and told me that her daughter is always asking if there are more "puppy stories" on the computer. Maybe I should put a book together that could be read as bedtime stories about puppies and horses and pigs. I wonder if anyone would like that?

Walking the Dogs

It's my last day off before I have to spend twelve hours out of twenty-four at work away from my four legged family for five days, so I wanted to spend as much time I can with my kids (and Brent, but he's working).

We started off the day with grooming and baths for everyone. Jax still has a smell about him from being so dirty for so long, so he gets a bath but no trimming. Often my grooming skills are questionable resulting in some unusual pompadours, however Poco and Taz turn out particular lovely this time.

After bath time there is a brief rest period and then a game of  fetch. Everyone racing across the living room floor and smashing into the wall, table legs or couches. Great fun and lots of giggles and barking.

I needed to grab a few things from the grocery story, so I decided to go to the little village of Ridgeway where the locally owned grocery store is right beside the Friendship Trail.

The Friendship Trail is many miles long and runs through country and city venues. If I head west I have at least three miles before I see a stop sign or cars. It's through farmers fields and swamps where the sumac grows wild across the trail.

Once I'm away from the main road I let Taz and Jax off leash. Taz is a very good listener and Jax sticks close by the gang. Jax is just starting to get comfortable with going for a walk and he shies away from the leash. In hopes of making the idea of walks fun I let him play as free as I feel is safe.

Through the process of emancipation Jax has learned important commands like: come and wait. If I call "Jax come" he comes running at me like his tail is on fire with his too big tongue is sticking out of his too small mouth. He looks like the definition of Joy.

Poco has to stay on leash. Should he see anything with a fuzzy tail he's off and there's no way to stop him. It's too dangerous. It's not safe, but with the use of extend-a-leash he has a lot of space to play.

As we're walking down the partially overgrown path Jax stops to play tug of war with an obviously dangerous piece of ragweed. He manages to wrestle it to the ground and chew on it for a few seconds. He gives his prey a quick nip and bark before running towards me with his tongue out and his ears flapping in the wind. I've never seen a pup look so happy.

Jax runs past me and attempts to bump directly into Taz, but she sees it coming and side steps leaving Jax confused and sitting on his rump in the grass until I come up beside him and give him an encouraging pat. He wiggles in delight and runs next to Taz as though they are best friends.

Poco feels the need to intervene at this point and breaks up any unnecessary fun. Big brother type antics.

I was laughing. I was laughing out loud as I walked alone down the friendship trail. Well, not completely alone. I have my puppies.

It's almost dinner time and I'm surrounded by my little pups. Taz on my lap, Jax by my leg and Poco on guard beside my couch on the floor. We are a lovely and happy family.

Farm - October 2011.

There was a beautiful day at the beginning of October and all my animals were in a less than one acre paddock together. Two pigs, two ducks, two goats and one horse all pleasantly sharing a small space. They all got along. They were happy together and it made me smile. This is when I first saw a picture of Jax.

There are so many articles stating you can't house pigs with anything, especially horses. If all these different animals can get along... why can't we? Watching all the struggles of the human world I wonder how these guys can make it work, but the rest of the world can't manage to find a peaceful solution?

There was a brief adjustment period when I brought Jax home, but after a few growls and some chasing within a day they had it worked out. Jax is the baby, while Taz and Poco are more mature and own all the toys. However, they let Jax play with the toys anytime he wants and he often takes the toys right out of their mouth. Okay... maybe the toys belong to the baby too.

I managed to capture this moment on video. I am delighted with my four legged family.

Jackson "Jax" Bear

I first saw his picture on petfinder on October 2, 2011 exactly two months since Gizmo died. The irony is not lost on me. I had a visceral response when I saw the black and white shih tzu named Grover. I closed the internet page and decided it wasn't time to adopt a new dog.

By October 5th his picture was haunting my dreams. I thought about him steady. It bothered me. I asked for advice from friends and was told to follow my heart. Brent said to apply and see what happened. Just because we apply doesn't mean we'll get the dog. A little heart and a little fate went into my application.

On October 6th in the late afternoon I got a call from Ohio. If you want the dog come and get him and bring cash. No vet check. No interview. No home visit. Shaggy Dog Rescue was ready to give me Grover.

I told Brent about it and he said "we're going to get him". It was that simple. I worked nights on Thursday and by 8am Friday morning Brent and I were driving the volkswagon towards Ohio on a wonderful puppy rescue road trip.

We talk about our dreams and goals. We talked about how life has changed and how we've had to re-adjust our views. We talked about the future and avoided talking about this pup until we hit Mentor, Ohio.

Mentor is where I picked up Gizmo. We drove right past the exit and I couldn't help but cry a little thinking of my little dude. I miss him so much. The tears landed on Taz's soft baby blonde hair and she looked up at me with love. I gave her a gentle hug and stared out the window for a while. A good friend recently told me that Gizmo was having so much fun running that he didn't realize he'd run right into heaven without a second thought. It really is a typical Gizmo thing to do something wonderful without really thinking too much about it.

We kept driving south for another hour until we reached Canton, Ohio where we got off the highway. The woman in charge of the rescue (Judy) asked if we could pick up some vaccines for her at the local feed store six miles away. Her car was stolen a month ago and she had no way to pick them up. A tray of 25 5-way puppy shots for $80 was part of my adoption fee.

We called Judy as we left the feed store and headed back into Canton. Brent and I were both quiet on the ride to her house to pick up Grover.

She told us to knock on the side door and she'd meet us at the front door with the dog. It took about ten minutes after we knocked for her to meet us out front with papers under one arm and Grover under the other. She said she had trouble catching him because he was playing.

When the front door opened the smell was horrific. Grover was a mess of black that turned out to be a mix of dirt, urine and feces caked on his feet, face and belly. His white patches were yellow with angry red patches of urine burn on his tender skin. He smelled so badly that Taz and Poco wouldn't go near him. Brent and I were speechless as we took the seven pound shih tzu out from under the fleshy arm of Judy.

She gave us syringes filled with wormer and revolution that we were to administer at different times. She said her photocopier no longer worked, so she could only give us a bit of paperwork. She assured us he was neutered July 2011 and was given a rabies shot at that time.

Brent and I left with Taz and Poco in the front seat and Grover in the back seat. Even with the windows down the smell was horrific. We drove five miles and stopped at the closest PetSmart where we begged them to groom Grover. They were wonderful and promised to have our puppy smelling better within the hour. It was the best forty-five dollars I've ever spent at PetSmart. Thank you to those groomers who did the last minute job of cleaning up our new pup.

After leaving Grover in the arms of a caring groomer at PetSmart our next stop was to Target to buy a cooler for our cold stuff and a new tee shirt. The one I was wearing when we picked up Grover smelled horrible and was covered with brown and black stains. I changed beside the car then we walked to the closest eatery to wait for our stinky boy to get de-stinked.

We wandered over to a pub with an outdoor patio, but they wouldn't let us sit with the dogs, so we crossed the street and ate outside at the tables at Burger King. It was gross, but we were hungry and nervous, so we ate.

We returned to PetSmart and our puppy was clipped and cleaner, but still had a smell. They offered pet perfume, but we decided that would be too many competing smells. He slept quietly while Taz watched for the long drive home.

Brent and I were quiet for a long time and when we did finally start talking I realized he was angry. He was angry that Shaggy Dog called themselves a rescue. He was angry that a rescue would not provide basic grooming and general care.

I believe Judy was doing the best she could with little money. Unfortunately, Ohio has a huge number of puppy mills and dogs get turned in constantly. She told us there were twenty dogs turned in with Grover. Nineteen males and one female that the breeder was finished with and dumped at the local humane society who called Shaggy Dog Rescue to help. Overwhelmed and still trying to help Judy had a tough job. Her best wasn't our best, but she was trying to save the dogs. Without her, Grover would have been euthanized with a week, but she bought him time and then gave him a chance. Grover had been staying with Judy and up for adoption since July.

It's interesting to think that Gizmo was still alive when Grover went up for adoption. It's amazing that nobody snapped this little darling up. Fate? Was Grover waiting for us? Was he willing to wait a little longer to come and convalesce at the farm? Was Grover really sent by Gizmo?

I'm grateful Judy gave Grover some time to find his forever home. She pointed out that Grover had two letters tattooed on his ear: "JB" could clearly be seen on the inside of his left ear flap. We don't usually re-name dogs, but Grover didn't recognize his name and we wanted to find something that matched the initals.

We thought about Joe Packer when we thought the JB was a JP. We considered Cleveland, Ohio, Lambeau, Akron and Puppy. We were in New York State when I thought of Jax or Jackson. It started with a J and we could add Bear as a middle name. Taz has four names why shouldn't Jax have two?

Jackson "Jax" Bear became our puppy on October 7, 2011 on the eastern edge of New York State. We got back to the farm at 9pm that night where Jax immediately started playing with plush toys and peed outside. We were so proud.

We had plans at the beach with friends, so we packed up our turkey and headed to the beach where our friends were waiting. Jax was awesome. He traveled well and made himself at home at the beach.

On Saturday I was on the kitchen floor playing with Jax and asked Brent if it was too soon to be in love with this pup. Brent laughed and said I was in love the first time I saw his picture and read his story. I smiled knowing he was right.

It hasn't been a week and we feel like Jax has been apart of our lives for years rather than days. He's fit in and started to fill out. He doesn't have much muscle, but it won't take much time to get this boy in shape the way he follows his big sister and adventurer: Super Tazil Puppy Dog.

Poco still isn't sure, but the baby isn't intimidated. He even barked at Poco for playing too rough with the toys. They had a brief game of chase in the rain after work tonight and I see these boys becoming not only best pals, but brothers.

We aren't looking to fill the hole in our hearts that Gizmo left behind, but we are looking to ease our grieve by helping another pup find a new life. We're helping each other.

After a second bath and trimming off his dirty beard his whites are whiter and he now smells like a healthy dog. Jax is younger than we thought at just a year old and has breathed new life into the old farm.

New Re-Birthday: October 7, 2011 since we don't know his actual birthday. He is one year old on re-birthday this year. Welcome to the farm and thank you Jackson Bear.

Video Blog: A day in the life.

When I woke up this morning at the farm it was overcast and raining. There was a brief reprieve where I went out and cared for all the farm animals. The mud is getting thick in some places and I'm glad I had my rubber boots on:

Taz and Poco were inside trying to find ways to blow off some steam. Wouldn't you know that the smallest dog chose the biggest stuffed toy to beat up. Do you think she had big dog syndrome? Poco chose a smaller toy with no stuffing and lots of squeakers that he could easily thrash around. 

Taz vs Reindeer

Poco vs bunny 

Taz tried to go outside on cat patrol, but was quickly deterred by a chill bout of rain. The cats ran for cover and Taz ran for the house. The cat in the video below is from the feral cat society of Toronto and has been at the farm for about three years now. He is a ragdoll who was discovered at a cat colony in downtown Toronto and made his way to the farm. I wormed him this year by putting wormer in a pile of tuna and leaving it for him in the field. I hid around the side of the barn and watched him eat it and gave myself a high five. 

By now I'd had enough of the chilly rain and decided to head to the beach and see if the weather was any different. Was I in for a shock! The dogs were delighted as they ran down the beach

Taz even got so warm she took a dip and lay down in the lake. Who knew the beach would be so hot in October. In Canada! 

Meanwhile, across the street Brent is doing a little leveling with his favorite toy. 

Later on we had a fire on the beach. 

This is my first video blog and I hope it's enjoyable! Now, the dogs are climbing my leg for another beach walk, so I've got to go and you should too. Get out there and take your pup for a walk before it snows. Remember this from Winter 2010?? 

How to end the day... Beach Fetch! 

Taz... Do you want a Cookie??

I love my Canines

Sitting at the Main Street drawbridge in Port Colborne watching the Lakers traverse the canal with a Super Taz riding shot gun and napping in her favorite paw print plush bed.

Brent and I were having a movie day and he said: "hey, have you seen Gizmo?" He meant Poco.

Walking along the beach with the sun shining through the clouds and the yellow dances like northern lights across the lake. The magic and shimmer from heaven touching the earth. Sharing it all with little heartbeats who get it too.

Every time I sit on the kitchen floor and am never alone.

Listening to Taz have a crunchy snack.

Right before it rains there's a smell and heaviness that saturates the very air we breathe. It makes Taz excited and Poco afraid. Nature affects us all.

The sound of nails clip, clip, clip across the hardwood floor.

The taste of cookies and warm bread that I have to share with a smile.

Asking at PetSmart if they have any smaller tennis balls while holding onto the leash of Taz and Poco with a quizzical look on my face. Saying with a straight face "these balls are simply too big"

Enjoying the smiles of strangers as I drive by in my Smart Car with Super Taz and Poco riding shot gun or staring out the back window like a bobble head doll.

Learning the delight of running as fast as you can through dry warm sand.

Never eating alone.

It doesn't matter how many times I tell Taz and Poco that there is only one exit from the bathroom, they insist on following me relentlessly to the powder room.

Being interrupted in the middle of an intimate moment by a wet nose.

Always having a wing man.

Telling stories about Gizmo makes me feel good and I think it makes other people uncomfortable. I love to talk about my little dude. He was magic. I promise not to cry if you promise to listen.

This is a video of Taz in the role of entertainer on a Friday night. I'm still giggling.

Long Beach Poco

Poco is our quiet, but incredibly beautiful male lhasa shih tzu cross. He's one of those sad sorry cases of abuse and he has many issues. He's not great with people or other dogs. We always thought he was happiest curled up in his orange heated dog bed, but it turns out Poco comes alive for two things: a mini-sized tennis ball and the waves on the beach.

If you should throw the miniature tennis ball into the lake you might as well make Poco the newest Prince of Long Beach and happiest puppy in the world.

The normally watchful and sedate Poco comes alive when he hits the water. Regardless of the ambient temperature he will dive in with careless abandon and snap up the white foam as it hits the shore. Sometimes he ends up with a snootful of water or sand, but he sneezes it off and snarls as he dives back into the water.

I can't help but laugh out loud at his determination. He seems to have endless energy as he races up and down the beach trying to catch the wave.

Poco has done this in the ocean too and the salt water is only a slight deterrent. He simply sneezes extra hard.

We often over look our quiet boy that doesn't like to be touched by strangers, but he's a hidden treasure. I'm hoping to remember the video camera and offer a little glimpse of our gentleman puppy.

There's only a few more days left to enjoy the beach and I'm so grateful to have the puppies to share my morning and sunset walks along the beach. It's a lovely romance and it's nice to spend time with a guy who really gets me. Thanks Poco! (no offense Brent).

Long Beach

It's September 25th and is one of those perfect weather days. Clear blue skies, butter yellow sunshine and a soft breeze that feels like a tender kiss.

I'm sitting on the newly built front deck of number four of the Long Beach Cottages owned by the Lindhurst family, of which I am a member.

After Labour Day Long Beach is mostly deserted. The beach becomes my own private paradise where I can let the dogs run safely along the beach each and every morning. We end our sun soaked days with a huge bonfire on the sand. Brent dragged a tree stump onto the beach in the spring and we're still trying to burn it.

We were suppose to go to North Carolina this week with our trailer, but Super Taz became sick and we had to cancel our trip. After our visit with the Internal Medicine Specialist on Tuesday we learned our Super Taz fatigues easily, but she should make a full recovery. It was too late for North Carolina, but the need to escape still burned strongly in both of us, so we took the thirty minute drive to Long Beach and found our paradise.

The last few years have been busy and we hadn't taken the time to enjoy the beach. I wonder if we both forgot how soothing the lake can be with her healing powers.

The sound of the lake is the base beat with her steady rhythm. Ebbing and flowing as the water laps the shore. The breeze rustles the leaves adding a wind instrument to the mix and the crickets provide the strings. A lovely orchestra of nature, until Taz throws in the horns.

I am not completely alone. There are small pockets of people, but they want their privacy too. We smile and wave and everyone keeps moving. It makes me feel like I'm not isolated, but I don't have to become involved.

Adjusting to life without Gizmo has been difficult and these few days at the beach has been a soothing balm to my damaged heart. The water is warm as it washes over my feet on my morning walk. The sun warms me and the breeze keeps me cool. It's a delicate balance. We can learn how to live our lives by watching how nature keeps the world's equilibrium regardless of how we try to control it.

Somedays are important for going with the flow. Learning to appreciate the good things. Brent and I are very lucky. Once again...

Keep Your Mouth Shut

This phrase has been a part of my life for a long time and maybe its time I start listening.

There are people who are thrilled to hear my new motto, but it makes me feel a little dead inside. It makes me feel sad. I'm reading a book right now called Speak and on page 122 I read this tonight:

"When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside - walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It's the saddest thing I know."

Maybe the last two months have been too much. Maybe I've been surrounded by sadness. Maybe it is time to keep my mouth shut for a while and see where my new found silence takes me.

So, if I seem a little quiet next time we visit I'm trying something new.

Not so Super Taz

Taz is our five year old 8 pound blonde bombshell shih poo pup who gave us a scare this week. We are particularly sensitive since the death of our beloved Gizmo on Aug 2, 2011.

Taz had a bout of lethargy and weakness last Thursday and we took her to our vet who directed us to the Niagara Vet Emerge Clinic, then to Mississauga Vet Emerge Clinic on Friday when she rapidly deteriorated to life threatening. She was stable and brought home over the weekend. We took her to an internal medicine specialist on Tuesday in Orchard Park.

She's doing much better. She still tires easily and takes long naps, but she's getting better.

The internal medicine doctor, Dr. Brummer at the Orchard Park Vet Hospital in the United States, did a bunch of tests and this is what we learned.

Chest x-ray: Taz has a heart murmur (no other vet has picked up on this), but her chest x-ray shows a normal sized heart. The murmur is probably a very small mitral valve leak. Dr. Brummer is not worried about it.

Abdominal Ultrasound: All organs, vessels and structures are normal. There is no bypass or missing vessels that would impede the workings of her liver.

Liver blood work: she has elevated bile acids and still has elevated liver enzymes. She probably has Hepatic Microvascular Dysplasia (HMD). This genetic disease can only be confirmed by a liver biopsy, but Dr. Brummer does not recommend putting Taz through this process. HMD should not affect her life, but she cannot metabolize many medications, so she should never get medications that would affect her liver.

Dr. Brummer does not know why Taz initially became lethargic, but he believes she worsened because they gave her morphine in the emerge clinic. Dogs with HMD can't metabolize narcotics, so she had a near life-threatening reaction. The treatment made her worse.

Dr. Brummer recommends we watch her and bring her back if she has another bout of lethargy.

One of the key things we've learned is the vet care is much more affordable in the US and it is much more advanced. If you have an emergency with your pet we strongly recommend the Orchard Park Veterinary Hospital. They are wonderful and affordable. 

Bath Night

It's six weeks today since we lost our lovable Gizmo. I saw many people today that I hadn't seen since he died. Mostly co-workers who hugged and said kind words. Thank you for understanding he was my baby and thank you for your kindness. It means the world.

Tonight was bath night for the puppies. We're preparing for our vacation/one year anniversary trip on Friday and I wanted to get the dogs groomed before Friday. I decided Tuesday was a good night and I started by giving both Taz and Poco a bubble bath. After I got the kids out of the tub and dried I started with the clippers.

I did Poco first and he looks incredibly handsome, but as I was sweeping the hair into the garbage I was overcome with tears as I pictured that hair being chocolate brown. I remembered how good Gizmo was to get groomed. He was always so patient and stood so still letting me learn. He was so sweet to groom and so easy. It didn't matter what I did to Gizmo he always looks adorable. I miss that chocolate hair.

Poco looks incredibly adorable and Taz looks like a princess with her fluffy style. As we get ready for this trip I wish Gizmo was here getting his bath too. I wish Gizmo was at my feet begging for cookies. I've never wished so hard in all my life.

My kitchen walls are adorned by pictures of my puppies. Gizmo always stands out with love in his eye and personality oozing out of his body. What an amazing little dude and I am so lucky that I got to have him in my life.

Puppy bath night tonight and I really miss my Gizmo.

Night Shift

It's 630 am and I'm just home from a night shift. The dogs are fed and I've just had a tasty turkey sandwich for breakfast with two cookies. There are a handful of benefits to working nights and eating cookies for breakfast is one of them.

The house is pleasantly quiet and the dogs are sleeping in their most favorite beds. The dishwasher is humming and the kitchen is clean. The farm seems quite peaceful this morning.

The drive home was uneventful and it's one of those overcast mornings that's great for sleeping. I'm about to go up and crawl into bed knowing everyone else is getting up to start their day. There is some comfort in crawling into bed in the morning and napping guilt-free until noon.

I think Taz stays up most of the night on her watchdog bed waiting for me, because she loves to nap all morning. She'll curl up beside me and start snoring before I've had the chance to close my eyes. Belly up and totally relaxed she snuggles into the blankets and gives her therapeutic doggie sigh before she closes her eyes and nods off.

Poco curls up on my feet and seems asleep immediately. He usually falls asleep nose to tail and only relaxes once he's really out. He slowly unwinds and expands until he's laying along my leg snoring. He's acutely aware of everything, but puts his army training on hold for a few hours of morning naps.

Gizmo never really woke up in the morning, so his nighttime napping and his morning nap would simply expand until noon. I don't know how he did it. I don't know how his bladder wouldn't burst. Even at noon I'd have to wake him up and carrying him down the stairs with his tail wagging making his little old man noises. I'd put him the grass and he'd give me a look like I was crazy and promptly pee on the flagstone patio.

Shift work is hard on the body and the mind, but I do see the benefits when chocolate can be had for breakfast and the calories don't count. It's getting to be full light, so it's time for me to go hide under my blankets and wait for lunch. I think beer for lunch?

Healing Time

There has been some discussion on how quickly people heal after the loss of a loved one. The books say anywhere from six weeks to six months depending on the connection. It's only been five weeks since my Gizmo died, so I haven't even hit the bare minimum in terms of grieving. I need time.

To all my loving friends and family: this is the normal grieving process. It's okay to be sad and it's okay to mourn. I feel sad. I feel sad in the way that I miss my Gizmo and not in the way that I'm spiraling downward into a great dark abyss. I've spent enough time in therapy to know that the only person who knows me best is me. I know I need time.

I understand that my grief may seem distressing and difficult to handle. I can't tell you when it will end. I can't tell you when I'll feel better, I just will.

Gizmo was like a child to me and if you think how human parents mourn the loss of a child then perhaps that will put it into perspective for non-animal lovers. The loss of a child can destroy marriages and people. The loss of a child can make a parent leave their entire lives behind and seek a new beginning where nobody know them or knows of their deep grief.

Gizmo was a part of my every waking hour. I thought of him often and he brought a light and joy to my life that I wish I could find again. I might not ever "get over it", but I will find a special place in my heart for Gizmo and my life will go on. It will never be the same life. It will forever be changed by the course of events that occurred on Aug 2, 2011.

If I could have changed just one small thing on that night then my life would be different. Then I'd still be happy and joyful, and still have that incredible light in my life. I can't go back in time. I can't change what happened. I wish everyday that I could have my Gizmo back.

I still have a huge swamp of guilt to wade through. You can tell me it wasn't my fault, but the reality is I didn't keep my boy safe. I didn't protect him and for that I have guilt. Nothing can take that way, but I admit it and accept it.

Today is September 8, 2011 and eight years ago today my mother died. She was one of the few people who really understood me. She got me in ways that nobody else ever could. She got me in ways that only a mother can understand a child. There is a connection between a parent and child and when that connection is suddenly and violently severed it hurts for both individuals.

I miss my mom, but I know she and Gizmo are sitting on couch watching their favorite shows and eating a bag of regular potato chips. I know they are watching me like a mother watches their child, and a child watches their mother. With love and adoration.

I might still cry a little too much. I might think about my Gizmo a little too often, but yesterday I looked a picture of Gizmo and smiled. It only happened once, but that's progress.

I love you little dude and mom. Keep safe.

Vincent Goes to his Forever Home

Its been nearly four weeks since Vincent came to farm and today he left for his forever home. It was difficult to watch him drive away in his new mom's arms, but it was also right. The family called when they got home and said how much they loved Vincent and he was resting comfortably in his new basket dog bed. He'd eaten several treats on the ride home.

Vincent was one of those dogs who really tugged at my heart strings. His story, his shyness, his progress and his love made him irresistible. Brent and I discussed adopting Vincent and keeping him as our forever dog, but it was simply too soon after Gizmo's death.

We weren't ready as a family. Brent and I decided that Vincent helped us more than we helped him through a rough transition. We'd just lost our Gizmo and here came this little vulnerable, fragile, fractured little pup who needed a sanctuary.

It was a tough decision to take him in, but we thought Gizmo would want us to help another shy guy come to life. With our little chocolate dude in mind we brought Vincent into our home and watched him blossom. It was amazing.

Happy tails in your forever home Vincent. We miss you too.

Goodbye Chickens

We're missing our chickens. I went out to feed the ducks and chickens, but there were only ducks and a handful of chicken feathers.

This is not a good summer for the farm. So much death. So much sadness. So much grief.

Coyotes? Fox? Both take the bodies with them and there were no bodies, just feathers, but coyotes will continue to come after and kill all the cats, while fox will stick to easy prey. Like the ducks.

I could hear the coyotes howling tonight and it gave me the serious creeps.

Having the coyotes in the barn means they're one step closer to the farm. One step closer to the puppies. Once step closer to us, but there are three things coyotes don't like: pigs, lamas and donkeys. I don't mind doing a little farm investing, but it would be nice to find one that needed a home too.

Brent and I decided we needed to take back the barn, so we moved the pigs back into the barn paddock. We didn't lose a single bird while they were on guard duty, so perhaps we can prevent further coyote killing by protecting the ducks with over two hundred pounds of pig.

The pigs and ducks seem happy living together and I think once the cold weather hits they'll learn to cuddle. I really hoping they keep each other safe. It feels right to have them in that space. It feels good to hear the pig squeals and the duck hiss when I get my car out of the barn in the morning.

An empty barn is just the playroom for a raccoons and wildlife which brings danger closer to my doorstep and my puppies.

I send out a special cheer to Elvis, our rooster and Missy, our hen. A speedy trip to heaven, save a place for us in the barn and give Gizmo a big hug an kiss from his family who miss him very much.

Nugget 

\

Missy 

Last video of chickens...

Vincent's Progress

Vincent is our foster dog from the CCRT (Canadian Chihuahua Rescue and Transport) that came to the farm one week after Gizmo was killed. As I watch Vincent progress I can't but think how much Gizmo would have helped this little guy.

Vincent is one of the last remaining dogs from the Oakville hoarding situation back in April 2011. He was rescued by the Oakville Humane Society in April and spent months in another cage at the Humane Society.

Vincent would sit shaking in his cage terrified of all the people, dogs, cats and noises. When potential families would look at him they would see a disfigured chihuahua that refused to be held, walked or touched. Vincent would freeze or try and run.

Vincent survived the first two years and eight months of his life by running and he still didn't get away without damage.

While still a puppy Vincent had his ears chewed off. One ear is completely gone and there is only a small piece of the other ear flap remaining. I looked up the article and the dogs were stacked on top of each other in large crates. Several dogs to a crate and they were left intact to breed.

http://www.thespec.com/news/local/article/513520--33-chihuahuas-seized-from-oakville-home

The article reports 33, but the Humane Society says it was 37 chihuahuas that were seized. As of August 2011 there are only three remaining chihuahuas that have not been adopted, and Vincent is one of them.

After several months of being unable to find Vincent a home the Humane Society called the CCRT and asked if they could take Vincent into rescue and see if he'd thrive in a foster home. The CCRT called me.

It was one week since Gizmo was killed and I spoke the the regional coordinator in tears one evening. I suggested that perhaps we wouldn't be a good home. We'd just lost a Gizmo. She asked if we needed time. I thought, yes and then she told me about Vincent.

I didn't think my heart could break further at this point, but it did a little for this damaged soul. Gizmo would want us to help this little guy. Gizmo would not hesitate to let Vincent crawl into his heated bed to cuddle. Gizmo would have shown Vincent where we keep the endless supply of kibble. Gizmo would have played with Vincent and shown him how to be a real dog.

I cried as I drove to pick up Vincent. I took Taz and Poco for the ride to Oakville since I couldn't possibly leave them behind. We walked into the busy building as an elderly man at the counter was making arrangements for cremation for his pet. I cried a little more. He looked so sad.

I waited my turn and took in the bags of dog food, toys and supplies on the floor: donations. The staff was incredibly friendly and helpful. I kept my tears in check long enough to meet Donna who was cuddling Vincent. She had tears shimmering in her eyes as she passed Vincent over to my arms stating "please take good care of him. He deserves a break."

We exchanged emails and I promised to keep Donna and the staff at the Oakville Humane Society posted on Vincent's progress.

I took a video of Vincent's first day on the farm. He wouldn't come close to me, but would run over and sniff my hand then then run away. He's was so afraid and Gizmo would have loved him.

Vincent sat between the seats of my Smart car the whole drive to the farm. I cried and Taz tried to lick my face while I drove. I thought of Gizmo.

Vincent must have been tired because he spent his first week sleeping or hiding. We let him. In his second week he started to cuddle and tried to play with Taz. It's like a tap dance scene from West Side Story. Who's the Jet and who's the Shark?

After three weeks at the farm Vincent barked for the very first time. The progress is incredible. Go give your dog a hug and he'll hug you back in all sorts of ways.

When Gizmo first came to the farm he slept for months and it was a year before we heard his rough bark. Vincent was more damaged on the outside, but luckily dogs have no idea that appearances matter.

Vincent is a tribute to our Gizmo who still continues to rescue other dogs in need. Thanks little dude for keeping us on the right path and for watching over us from your heated dog bed in heaven. We miss you buddy.

Water Wings

It hit me when... 
I was putting on my socks.
I was cutting the grass and I looked out on the road.
I was walking out to turn off the water pump.
I was feeding the dogs. 
I was getting the mail. 
I was planning our next puppy friendly vacation. 


When I found the little brown sweater with the buttons on it that is the same colour as Gizmo. 


It's my last thought at night before I fall into a shallow sleep and the first thought when I wake up. 


He's gone. My Gizmo is gone and I can't change it. I can't bring him back and I miss him so much it hurts.


I got the package in the mail from International Therapy Dogs with Taz & Gizmo's ID cards and information. Gizmo would have been an amazing therapy dog.


Sometimes when I'm outside and it's really sunny, I think: Gizmo wouldn't have been outside much today because he didn't like it when it was too sunny; or when it rained, but he loved the snow. He'd push his way through and you could almost hear his puppy giggle. He'd come in covered in snowballs delighted with himself. He was always so delighted with himself. 


I miss him so much. Life goes on and thing go on and work goes on, but I still miss him every moment of everyday. I can't think of much I wouldn't trade to get my Gizmo back.


My heart aches and the tears fall as I think of his chubby little body and his happy smile. I'm sad or angry or empty. I still smile, but it's only through the tears. 


I can barely hear the things going on around me. It sounds like the radio is on low and I can't quite make out the words to the song, but I can hear the noise. It's like Charlie Brown's teacher talking. I know things are happening and the world is spinning, but I'm not really a part of it. 


I like riding my motorcycle and the wind knocks the thoughts out of my head. I like going a little too fast. I like a little danger. It makes me feel a little more alive, but this is when it hits me. Gizmo hated my motorcycle. 


I have been reading a little on grief and I know everything I'm feeling is normal. I found this great quote about the ocean: Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.

I could really use some water wings.  

Farm Life Goes On

Amid our sadness and grief there are still other animals that must be tended to and care for with summer quickly fading to fall. The tire needs to be fixed on the tractor. The hay building needs to be cleaned out and the roof repaired. The pig shelter needs to be moved, insulated, sided and fenced.

The water needs a float.  A trip to the feed store is in order for chicken feed, pig feed and some more white electric fence ribbon.

We have two roofs to fix and a shelter to build for the backhoe before October. This doesn't include the daily activities of feeding and watering. This doesn't include puppy care, foster care, vet visits and some sort of social life.

It's amazing I have time to cry. We've had to stop recent projects because of the grief. Brent and I simply could not move forward. We had to sit and cry. We miss our little dude who was a huge part of our daily life. It's not getting easier and in some ways it's harder the farther away we get from the day Gizmo died.

We did get the pig shelter built, moved and sided. We've gotten to visit with a handful of friends. We've been lucky enough to share our grief. There's a lot of people that miss Gizmo.

Life on the farm must go on, but every few hours the loss hits me in the gut like a Mike Tyson punch. It hits me in the core and rattles everything. I have to stop. I can't breathe. It's the same image that causes me to double over - picking his little body up off the road knowing.

It's seeing his body in the dark, not moving, not breathing and Brent immobile over top. It's scooping him up and his head lists to the side. It's cuddling him until his warmth is gone.

A friend said I need to find the joy back in life. I have smiled as Vincent comes to life with our love. I have smiled when we brought Autumn a bale of this years hay and she nickered in delight.

I've laughed at Brent arguing with the j-trim as we sided the pig building, but deep down there is a sadness. A loss. Immense grief that catches me off guard and knocks me down for the day.

Time is a great healer and most of the time, I'm filling time, until time passes. That's like therapy. Ironic that the beast that took my Gizmo is the same thing that gives me comfort. The farm. I hate it and I love it.

I've been thinking about the beach lately. I've been thinking about long walks on the beach with no cars. I've been thinking about winter isolation. I've been thinking about escaping for a little while. I guess I've been thinking a lot lately.

I miss Gizmo.

Going to Town

As I make my rounds through town people are noticing the lack of a gorgeous chocolate shih tzu that used to be part of our pack. The owner of the PetValue in Fort Erie remembered Taz's name and then started to talk about the most beautiful chocolate shih tzu that comes into the shop. I showed her a picture of Gizmo and she said "yes!" Where is he?? Gone. Lost. Dead.

I cried in the middle of PetValue. She gave me a free sample.

I got home and got the mail and in an envelope was a letter from International Therapy Dog wanting to congratulate us on completing the multi-dog therapy dog training. Taz and Gizmo were a team and just got their therapy dog status this past June. Bitter sweet. Happy and heartbreaking. Sad and wonderful. More tears for my overflowing bucket.

No wonder I don't want to leave the house when every time I turn there is a six degrees of separation person who misses Gizmo. It hurts and wells up inside me and then I'm proud that he touched so many people.

A friend said I needed to find the joy in life again and one of my favorite things to do is ride Autumn. I rode and then gave her a big bubble bath. It passed the time, but the grief is still strong.

I moved the horse and goats back into their three acre paddock and walked back into the house to notice that my necklace was hanging off my neck and my locket was gone.

The week Gizmo died I ordered a locket. It was a simple silver locket with a paw print in the front, Gizmo's name engraved on the back and his picture inside. I loved it. I lost it too.

I contacted the company I ordered the locked from (Heartsmith) and they're sending me a new one. ASAP. A ride on my horse and an act of kindness. There is still some goodness left. I think Heartsmith may have pulled a Gizmo. An act of kindness.

The Bed

I have a HUGE King size panel bed that easily stands over four feet at the mattress. It's huge and lovely. The dogs have a tough time getting in and out of it. I've tried cushions, stairs, couches, ramps and nothing.

The nothing was bad because they'd wake me up in the middle of the night to get on and off the bed. It wasn't like Gizmo where I had to get up and walk him down stairs for a drink. Poco and Taz can do it on their own. I was also afraid they might fall off.

I put a ramp up, but that lasted a day when Taz got her toe nail caught and cried like a baby. That's it! The bed is going on the floor.

I can only say I bought the bed years ago from Lampman's Furniture in Fenwick and it wasn't cheap. Now, my not so cheap bed with lifetime warranty on the mattress is sitting on the floor because of my dogs.

I still have the headboard and footboard in place, but the box spring and mattress sit on the floor. I have an old couch cushion as a step, so they can jump up and down. It's a big bed. At first it felt like sleeping in a coffin with the high front and back, but now it feels safe and comfortable.

Even little Vincent can manage the leap and the pups spent the first day delighting in jumping on and off the bed without any hint of danger.

Gizmo would have loved it, but he'd still wake me up in the middle of the night to turn on the hall light, so he could navigate the stairs. I think he was afraid of the dark.

Grief and Thoughts

What do you believe? Fate? Destiny? Karma? A higher being? God? Religion? Do you believe that things happen for a reason? Do you cling to your beliefs during times of crisis? I have a certain amount of ambiguity about my beliefs.

Life is rarely clear defined as good and evil or black and white. Life is full of grey areas and this is particularly true when discussing fault. Brent and I are responsible for keeping our heartbeats safe. We must keep them out of danger they don't understand. We failed to keep Gizmo safe and accept our responsibility. 

Brent and I are level headed people and understand accidents happens. We've walked that off leash walk from car to house a hundred times and we knew the risks, but we never actually believed anything bad would happen.  

A parent can tell a child a million times to watch for cars, but if a child gets hit by a car a parent feels guilty. Why? Because, it's a parents job to keep their children safe. It's my job to keep my puppies safe and I failed. I take responsibility. I won't blindly accept that it's not my fault and I ask for forgiveness. 

I am responsible for Gizmo's death and I have to live with that. Was it destine to happen? Am I somehow less responsible because of fate? I don't know, but I am living with my broken family and fractured life. Gizmo was our glue, he was our love and our joy. I miss his so much. 

I had this vision of my family over the next ten years and my vision is shattered. I can't seem to adjust to life without Gizmo. I had the most amazing family for three years and I should be grateful, but I'm lost without my little dude.

I marvel at how versatile Taz has been over the years. She lost her most loved companion: Misiu, who helped her transition from puppyhood into adulthood before he died. She grieved deeply at his absence. She stopped eating. Stopped playing and would sit in the window watching the world, but refusing to participate. Gizmo has left her, along with all the fosters that have come and gone over the years. She's spent some time sitting alone in the back porch gathering all her dearest toys and staring outside. This is her grief.

I wish I was at the phase where I could see the good and feel positive, but I'm not there yet. Give me time.

Changing the bedroom

I clean out my bedroom today. I put in a new TV wall mount and hooked everything up and it works. I moved out a couch and put in a ramp, so the dogs can still get on the bed. I thought of Gizmo the whole time.

When Taz and Poco would retire for a nap while I re-organized a part of the house, but Gizmo would watch and jump on every opportunity to play and plunder. I missed his little chubby body while I moved the wall unit without his help. I picked up a package of unchewed paper and thought of my little dude.

I put the drill bit down knowing he wouldn't be trying to eat the sawdust and possibly cut his lips on the drill bit. I moved things and thought of Gizmo.

He would have had a great time today re-arranging the bedroom. He was always my co-conspirator when it came to moving the furniture of the house. Nary a blanket was moved without his spit or at least a quick bite of a pillow.

I can only hope he would approve of the new changes. I wish he was here to give the okay.

Another long day of missing my boy. Another full moon trying to break through the clouds. Another car going too fast down my road.

I want to tell you all a happy tale of moving the pig house, but I'm not ready. I don't know when I'll be ready.

Gizmo walking the Bridge

The sky looks like heaven tonight. Blue sky with pink and gold edging on the fluffy white clouds. I imagine Gizmo and I are both under that sky tonight. It's a summer night in August and we've got a fire going in the backyard and I can't help but think of my Gizmo. I have the wagon with a pillow out for Taz, but I think Gizmo would really love it too.

I'd like to say my heart breaks, but it's already broken and I realize now I can't fix it's deep fracture, but I know it will heal with time. I feel sore and tired like I've run a marathon, but I've only gotten out of bed. I crawl from my dark room and drink tea and check my email. Another day goes by and another day I move farther away from the memory of my little chocolate love.

I wander my farm and look after the other critters who still need my care. I mow the grass and get the mail and see the spot where my Gizmo died and I don't want to live here anymore. It feels like it was never real. It feels like the farm was an illusion. Life can never be that good.

It's like losing myself. It's like nothing can really be that good... and last. I wasn't prepared for the shoe to drop. I wasn't ready to lose a piece of my family. I am distraught.

With Gayle's words swirling in my head I walk out and sit crying at Gizmo's grave when I suddenly see him clearly in my mind. He's walking across a long beautiful bridge and he stops and turns his head to look at me. He wags his tail and jumps a little and I think, I've got to let you go Gizmo.

I cried a little harder and I said good-bye to my little dude and watched him trot happily along the bridge. I couldn't see where he was going, but he wasn't afraid to go there and I finally found some comfort. Gayle is right, my Gizmo is still surrounded by love.

Knowing I need to let him go and letting him go are two different processes, but I'm glad that I finally know what I need to do. I'm glad I can work towards something.

I still cry everyday and probably will for a very long time, but I can picture him doing is cheeky backwards glance and almost hear him giggle his puppy giggle.

Nothing, but time will ease the grief. Nothing but love will heal this ache.

I still can't believe it happened. I miss my Gizmo every moment of everyday. His dance, his wiggle, his giggle and his love. I was so blessed.

I remember making the video of Gizmo on his last day and the final shot is of Taz and Gizmo and on the tape I say "oh... my twins". I miss having my twins. I miss having the pair that loved and played. I miss my Gizmo.

Gayle's Message from Gizmo

My dear Amy,
I don't know what I have to say will bring you any relief, but this I know to be true. He's safe in the hands of his Maker. I saw him go to the other side for I helped guide him there upon hearing of his passing. He hesitate to crossover the bridge, but I told him that he must go there and play in the meadow with my Sugar and Zangi and when the time comes we will all join him. He is surrounded with love there, so he is not alone.. He promised to keep an eye out for you. The grief you feel is more than gut wrenching, this I also know. I compare it to losing a child, it feels like a piece of your soul has been torn asunder by a hurricane. You feel like you are drowning in your own tears and you can't come up for air. Your body feels beaten up, your head throbs from all the "what ifs" . No other grief will ever compare to what your are experiencing. Gizmo's life was filled with love because of you! He knew what you went through to get him and how you made him his own, he made you his world. Oh, how he wanted to please you! He could never find enough ways to say thank you for saving him. Thats why he was so good with the other dogs you brought home. He understood where they were coming from and would tell them what a wonderful life they were going to have with their very own family (once my mommy fixes you up, you'll be good as new!") He gave them courage, trust, understanding, patiences and love. He gave everything he knew and learned from you.
He was and is, so proud of you! For he felt he had the best mommy in the world. He knew how special he was all the time. He accomplished things on this earth that most people (muchless dogs) don't get to do. He wants to say thank you for believing in him and never giving up on him, no matter how ruff things got. You just loved him through it all. He says he's going to tell everybody about his mommy and daddy on earth, so everyone will know who you are when you come. But don't rush mommy! I'm okay waiting for you!
He sees your tears, even the ones you don't shed. And this saddens him, but he is knows this means you love him and miss him. He is boasting, again! "Celebrate my life, mommy!" Celebrate my life!" For I will celebrate yours everytime I see you share life and love with another dog! It means you loved me and honoured me. It means I was special!" Don't worry, I know you can't forget me! No matter how far away I am, I'm really not that far. If you sit very still, you can feel me. 

God! This dog is making me cry again! He sealed my fate with shi tzus I think forever! Pure love he was! Pure dark chocolate love!

Oh oh! One more message from Gizmo! "Good cookies, mommy! good treats! I love you! I love you! I love you!" I must have done something really good, because I am being spoiled!!!! Thank you for loving me for no one could have loved me more! I am the luckiest lil'boy! oh, and mommy? Its ok to love again. I'm so proud of you!" Snuggles and Licks!

Perfect Home

The farm was perfectly balanced. All the animals that lived in the house brought joy, love and a wonderful balance to our home.

Poco is our guardian. Our stoic male role model who still dreams of the marine corp that he's now retired. Poco can clean a rifle, fetch a ball and take you down in a knife fight. He'll also defend his home and all those who reside inside. He loves with all his heart, but please don't ever point it out. He's our soldier, defender and protector. You can feel safe knowing Poco is on duty.

Super Taz is our watcher and our hunter. Nary a stray leaf passes the lawn without her knowledge. A frog does not spawn, hop or swim without her permission. She'll out run you, out bark you and own you in a matter of minutes. She's loud, crass and defiant. She loves with all her heart and is not ashamed to be exactly who she is: a warrior. Taz also gives great kisses and cuddles. She's not shy about her passions.

Gizmo was our lover. He filled the house with nothing but joy and laughter. He would big bear fight with Taz, but that was the extent of his ire. Gizmo was our romantic, our cuddler, our sweet and peaceful boy. Gizmo hated the rain, wet grass and loud noises. Gizmo would demand you stop playing on the computer and play with him. He would insist on attention with his head on your shoulder he'd roll on his side to accept all kinds of bell rubs. Gizmo was an expert at begging for cookies, food and meals. I'm certain Taz and Poco would send Gizmo in to beg for cookies and I never said no. He was my cookie monster.

My balanced triangle is missing a side. My home is missing it's love. My life is broken and it's so hard to adjust. I don't know how to right this wrong. I don't know how to find my love again? There is something obviously absent in my home. There is a soul missing at roll call. There is a heartbeat that isn't beating anymore.

The love has been replaced by grief. There is a cloud that has settled over this farm and without the love to push it off I fear it may stay dark for a long long time.

It will be a week today when the cloud settled over the farm, when a light went out, a soul lost and our love was lost. I'm still waiting for it to get easier. I'm still waiting for tomorrow, but how to go forward without love?

I turned the radio off in the kitchen because it kept playing that song that played the night Gizmo died and I'd remember holding my limp puppy in my arms and watching my love die. I can't seem to get to the tomorrow where things get better. I can't seem to find the path that heals.

There is no more kitchen dancing at the farm. There is no daily Gizmo duet before dinner. There are no morning tummy tickles or afternoon games of rattle.

Gizmo had a particular way of cuddling with his head on my shoulder and his body across my chest with his belly exposed for rubbing. We'd sit in the evening with his nose in my ear and my hand on his belly until he snored and woke himself up. I'd laugh.

He brought so much laughter into my life. He was all the things in this world that are good and loving and genuine. 

Missing you more than I can say my Gizmos.

Gizmo and the CCRT

Years ago we noticed that Gizmo had a passion for chihuahuas. Every time we ran into one of the little chi's he'd get so excited. They were smaller than him and highly energetic. I remember a time in Key West at an off leash dog park that Gizmo fell instantly in love with a long haired female who admired him as well. It got me thinking.

Three dogs was our limit, but I'd always wanted to see if a chi would fully bring Gizmo out of his shell, so Brent and I agreed to join the Canadian Chihuahua Rescue and Tranport (CCRT). We put our application to be a foster home back in early June 2011.

The process is long and time consuming, but we were finally successful on Saturday, August 6, 2011 a mere four days following Gizmo's death. On Sunday, August 7, 2011 we got a call that the CCRT was in dire need of foster homes and could we foster a little guy.

I was in tears when I spoke to the coordinator on Sunday night and told her what happened to our Gizmo. I hinted that we might not be a trustworthy foster home. She didn't hesitate. We were just fine.

She called back on Monday afternoon and asked if we could pick up our new foster on Tuesday afternoon. Exactly one week since we lost our Gizmo. I cried. I wondered. I couldn't say no.

I pick up Vincent around 1 pm on August 8, 2011 from the Oakville Humane Society. Vincent was named after the artist Van Gogh because they are both missing an ear. Vincent came from a hoarding situation where his one ear was bitten completely off and the other ear was mangled.

When I first saw Vincent I thought, Gizmo would love him. He was so shy he made Gizmo look like a social butterfly. He was so timid Poco looked like a socialite. Taz hated him instantly, but will play with him if necessary.

Vincent is sleeping on my lap as I write this and he's warm. Taz is curled beside my leg and Poco is at my feet. These moments make me miss my Gizmos so much it hurts. I've never had a dog that could cuddle like a Gizmo - across my chest, head on my shoulder and nose in my ear.  I miss him so much there is a hole inside me.

I miss my Gizmo, but he would have loved Vincent and Gizmo has started us on another rescue adventure with a new group. Vincent says thanks Gizmo. Thanks. One little dog can make a difference.

Vincent's First Day at the Farm 

Vincent Convinces Taz to Play

Gizmo, love Erin

This was written by my thirteen year old niece Erin. Thank you Erin for letting me share this on my blog: 


I just read your blog...I had my first breakdown. I cried, for at least an hour. I tried to distract myself but I couldnt stop. I still cant stop. Its the worst thing Ive ever felt. I thought about the last time I was with him. We were in the Volkswagon Thing. He was laying on my lap, tired from the long walk on the beach. He had crawled up to my ear and made his cute little snorts while licking it like crazy. When we pulled up to my house, I didnt want to leave him. I had the best day with him, and you. 

I miss him. I miss his old man noises. His quiet little snores when he sleeps. The way he walks. His funny little barks. His crazy four in a row sneezes. Everything. I miss everything...

I love him as much as I love my own dogs. I dont know why, but from the moment I met him I loved him instantly. How could you not?

When I was little, and even now, I went through a million best friends. Who doesnt?
He was, and still is a best friend. I couldnt get enough of him. I wanted to spend every possible moment with him. I wish I would have.

Thank you. Thank you for bringing him into my life...he is the best thing in the world.

He is still with us, and always will be...because of this:

Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality
-Emily Dickinson


love,
Erin 

Special Little Dude

When I was struggling through my early thirties I gave a lot of thought to what I wanted out of life, how to spend my time and what was important.

This is where my devotion to my dogs was born. I'd always loved animals, but I made a conscious decision to make them a big part of my life. I became involved in dog rescue and met other wonderful like-minded people. It was nice to learn that I was not the only crazy dog lady.

Brent and I found our Gizmo. It took a few weeks to organize the adoption and it was an exciting day when Taz and I made the pilgrimage to Ohio to rescue our Little Dude.

I knew the instant I saw him that he was my baby boy. Gizmo was sick and fearful when he first came to the farm, but his spirit was strong. 

I spent months nursing him back to health and then years loving him and helping him come out of his shell to become a glowing, amazing star who learned to shine brightly.

Gizmo loved everyone. He embraced life whole heartedly and would delight in even the smallest bit of cookie. Gizmo and I kitchen danced everyday to whatever song was on the radio that constantly plays in our house.

Each morning I would wake him with belly tickles and he would give me a nose lick in return. When I'd try to stand him up he would slump back over collapsing into bed, but his wagging tail would always give him away. He refused to stand on his big boy legs. Giggling I'd pick him up and cuddle him while his tail wagged like mad and he made his old man noises. We'd walk downstairs smiling together and I'd make a special trip outside, so he could do his business. Gizmo never did figure out the dog door.

Once back in the house he'd dance and spin until he got a cookie which he'd take into the living room and eat on the white carpet. He'd run back into the kitchen and wiggle around my legs until I gave him breakfast.

Whether I was working or not this is how I started everyday. Every moment brightened by Gizmo. Ever step a little lighter, every chore a little easier and a smile to go with it all.

Gizmo loved to play with me. He liked to chase my hands and I'd try and grab his paw. He'd get so excited that he couldn't contain himself and would run like mad around the house. I'd run too and we'd do laps around the island and into the living room until we'd collapse on the floor where he'd wiggle over to lick my ear.

Gizmo gave the best ear licks.

Gizmo loved laundry. Clean or dirty. He would help me make the bed by grabbing the sheet and pulling. He'd delight in getting stuck under the fitted sheet and wiggle until I'd find him and set him free. He'd dance with joy and try to steal my pillows as I put on the pillow cases.

Taking off clothing was an even bigger event. He loved to steal my uniform shirts, socks and bra. I'd find clothing stashed under the coffee table in the living room. There's still an old sports bra under my coffee table because I don't have the heart to pick it up.

Gizmo was a part of my daily life. He brought light, joy and love to me everyday and this is why his loss  overflows my heart with grief. I wish for so many things right now. I wish for Gizmo to be back. I wish I'd left him in the stroller. I'd wished we'd built the fence like we'd talked about so many times.

I am broken. Torn apart. Alone and lost. I don't know how to get through this horrible event. This thing. This death.

I miss my Gizmos.