It's Been a Long Year

It is a quiet Sunday.  When I went for a long walk I felt the weight of the world, how essentially tired I am right now.  It's been a long year.

I did another video.  One of these days when I find a lot of time I'll begin scanning in hard copy photos of Murphy (I did not become a digital addict until a year and a half ago) and Sage.  So many of these photos on the new video you have seen before.

The music is from How The West Was Lost a two CD collection of music by Native Americans.  

Murphy's day.

Mattering

One of the things I miss most about Murphy was the moment she raised her head when I came downstairs at 4:45 AM.  Most weekdays I am up early, and in making my way to the study I would walk by her bed.   She always raised her head, even if I tip-toed trying not to wake her.  

I think that is the great thing about dogs.  They let you know, in those subtle daily ways, that you matter to them.  And mattering to someone is vital, I think, to living.

On Thursday I received a call from the vet.  Murph's ashes were in.  While it was  hard to get her, I didn't want her sitting on some metal shelf, alone.  She matters to me.

Murphy's day.

Still Anxious

At least to me, Sage still seems anxious.  When we walk on leash she hurries back home, walks through the house, as if she is trying to find Murph.  She definitely needs or is asking for more attention.  Although, since the Seattle area has no football teams (go Cashmere this weekend, by the way), maybe her morning football games is merely her way of compensating for the drought in local sports.

Her anxiety hasn't been good for the diet, or, more accurately, my anxiety hasn't been good for Sage's diet.  She keeps getting a few more chewies...oops!

I guess we're both still anxious and sad.

Murphy's day.

Murphy Was Not Marley

If I only had a dollar for every time anyone asked me Have you read Marley and Me?  The minute anyone hears you are owned by a yellow lab they instantly think the lab is just like Marley.

Labs, like humans, are unique and different.  Sage is so very unlike Murphy I sometimes have to check her papers to make sure she is a lab!  

While Murphy had many silly moments, and a few times when we stared each other down from 100 yards when she was chasing a Dalmatian (why is it always a Dalmatian?) across football fields, she really was a well behaved, great dog.  Ok, there was the toilet papering incident, but she clearly felt guilty and I needed the laugh.  But she never destroyed furniture, never ate doors, never hurt anyone, and indeed never stole food from the counter tops.  Murphy was a gentle soul, who until the very end, gave her heart.  She went on walks down steep ravines, crawled under logs, and sloshed through cold streams even though her body had horrible arthritis.  She did it because I was walking.  

There are many lessons to be learned from Murphy.  One of them, certainly, is that you can be noble, graceful, elegant, and still be a lab.

Murphy's day.

Play Dates

While it is now a ubiquitous term, I remember first hearing it, play dates, when I lived in New York.  Parents in the city made dates for their kids to meet other kids and play.  

I've noticed Sage needs play dates.  While I am still protective of her leg, she gravitates to other dogs, wanting to just be around them.  It's funny because while she was with Murphy, she was independent, but still "leaned" on the big girl.  Now, I think Sage is adrift, looking for a companion.  She is also asking for more interaction: playing football, ball, tug-of-war.

I'll do everything to make sure Sage gets what she needs.

Murphy's day.

Subdued

It's not a word I thought I would ever use with Sage.  Subdued.  But she is.  While she has been doing her mad dogs and giving me moony eyes for chewies, she is subdued.  

I downloaded some pictures from the weekend and forgotten I had taken these, maybe a week ago, 24 hours after Murphy died.  Usually Sage ate her evening chew on Murphy's bed.  But she just took the chew over, stood on the very edge, smelling, then chewing, then smelling.  

It's been a week.  And I feel we are both subdued.

Murphy's day.

Quiet Season

In tourism towns, the seasons when everyone leaves and only the locals deal with the mud and cold, are called quiet seasons.  

It's the  quiet season in eastern Washington.  There is no steelhead season on the Wenatchee, no snow at Mission Ridge, much less any for cross country skiing in and around Leavenworth.  It's nippy, but not too cold.  However, there were a lot of bow hunters out, a few received my scorn trying to drive up my road...but it is the quiet season.

And we absorbed it this weekend.  Taking walks, a pace significantly faster than with Murphy, but looking for her.  Catching glimpses out of the corners of our eyes.  Our favorite places just seemed empty...I am a journal keeper, every morning I write in a journal, and I noticed tonight when I put my current journal in "it's" drawer that I have written every day for the past few days that I feel an emptiness around me.  But still, there is a difference between empty and quiet...

It's quiet and empty.

Murphy's day.