Rosie and Lucky
Morgan and Lucky
having a cowboy cookout in the driveway Roscoe and Rosie
It is 2 days past the parting of our dear old friend "Lucky" - the biggest, fattest, most noble, gruntable, kissable, huggable , protector of our little farm. Lucky came to us on a cold winter's day with bleeding legs and a shrunken belly a few days after Christmas. We had seen him before, digging in the trash, catching him just before dawn running away like a wild animal. He was a handsome pure bred, had a nice blue collar on him. surely he belonged to someone!
Then one day, just after an upsetting family Christmas, he appeared at our house in the early am as usual, looking for food. This time he was closer to the house and didn't run away when i talked to him. I could see his legs were raw and bleeding and as i talked sweetly to him he dropped his big boy ways and came to me. i invited him in for a bowl of food and a warm up by the fire...the rest is history. The top photo was taken then...he literally bee lined to Rosie like a long lost lover, parked it infront of the fire and stayed for 5 years.
After a long search and neighbor interrogation we learned he'd been dumped. No one wanted him and in fact he was scheduled to be executed that day by the evangelical ranch down the way. nice. anyways..don't get me started...he became our boy, thyroid problem and all...his tag actually read "LUCKY" .
That summer i lost my first born ...a blue heeler named Schnooey Hutz (don't ask) and experienced my first euthanasia. to make a long story not so long...i lost it. the tears came and wouldn't stop...all the events that had passed through me in those years, the dreams i had bundled up in his ranchy little form..the farm, the babies, the husband, the committment to growing up and staying put, growing a family, losing my grandmother, my best friend, and others....it all came out...and who was there to hold me up and soak my sadness...LUCKY.
He was a soaker ...he let the babies crawl on him, pull his eyelashes, let new puppies and kitties jump on his face...and never let an iota of bad ass outa him...and yet, when the other neighbor's pit bulls (2 of em!) attacked he took em! had 2 very expensive surgeries to repair his mangled ear...and still let my son pretend to be a dog and eat from his bowl. (i know...cooties)
Besides all the above..the deep sadness that fill me has a question: "Who was inside that big furry body anyways??" I knew Lucky with every fiber in my body...and boy did he know Rosie.
I am inviting a comment discussion on what everyone thinks about animals and spirits . He feels just as important as anyone i have loved and been loved by. A few days after Christmas this year we all sat with him, laid our hand on him, petting and weeping as he slipped off to sleep in front of the fire, the same exact spot he had claimed years before. A long lost wayfarer who spent his whole life just trying to get here...where he will stay ....forever.
xo milady
6 comments:
I am not much of a dog lover, I do like them, just don't have the time to take care of one, so I wouldn't want to do that to such great creatures, but your story about Lucky is just making me tear up. He sounded like such a wonderful dog. The way you speak of him and how he came to you is pulling at my heartstrings. I am so sorry for your loss. I,too had to put a dog down once. It was my sons first puppy, the poor thing just was dealt a bad hand. My son never forgot about that dog. he would even go on to write creative writing stories in school about his dog, Roxy. Lucky, was a lucky dog to have you all as a family.
maybe you will be blessed with another great companion.
Hugs, Tricia
vintagebliss.typepad.com
Oops...I'm trying again...
I just happened upon your blog only to read that beautiful dog story which made me weep. I am also a dog lover and my Murphy died in my arms last fall after a 14 year love affair. It seems that you and Lucky found each other just when it was to be so.
I have a cat that came to me in much the same way afer my father's death (my father was a huge animal lover). To this day, no one can tell me that my father did not send this cat, who helped me grieve in ways that I know I would not have been able to manage otherwise. And as for her, after a time of starving and having to fend for herself, she got a warm, loving home.
I am so sorry for your loss and hope you will feel Lucky around your for eternity in much the same way that I know Murphy is with me. I hope for you that another beautiful animal will grace your life again. I say that to you as my beloved Ben, a big furry golden/poodle sleeps on my feet.
Blessings, Rosamund
I named Carlo after Emily Dickinson's dog who was said to go everywhere with her. He did go everywhere with me for 11 years, from bush Alaska to the Colorado mountains and finally California's beaches and uptight dog parks. He didn't care where as long as he was along. He helped me survive heartbreak and post- partum depression and 11 moves in as many years. When I was pregnant with my first son and couldn't sleep I would go downstairs and we would haul our considerable bulk on to the couch together. I would cling to him, and he would fall asleep first, his big yellow lab body rising and falling with each breath. I would hold him until I could finally go to sleep as well. When the babies came home he waited until I was ready to introduce him. (I have a picture of him, his expressive forehead folds wrinkled in worry, looking at this tiny fragile animal in my lap.) But of course he became the best kids dog, letting them ride him, dress him up, rolling in the grass and following them everywhere. He loved us and he loved life more than anyone I know. When we had to move to California because my second son couldn't handle the altitude at our home in Colorado, he went with us of course and traded the wide open spaces he loved at our Colorado ranch for daily walks to Phoenix Lake and trips to Muir Beach and the blessed trips to Limantour Beach where he could run and even swim until they shut that one down to off leash dogs too. Then in that long rainy first winter in California, he got cancer. Pancreatic cancer. The vet didn't think he had long but we decided we had to get him home to Colorado and the ranch. It was almost Christmas and we packed two kids (one a baby), two dogs, and a cat into the truck and drove from Ross to Gunnison. It took us four days. When we got there he seemed to recover.
He and the other dogs explored and ran and rolled in the snow and I hoped for a miracle. We had had so many Christmases at the ranch at that point that the dogs knew the routine. They would get up early with the kids and wait by the stockings, fat tails sweeping the floor. They always had rawhides waiting in their stockings. That Christmas, Carlo carried his with him all day, his mouth in a big wide grin holding it. I have a picture of him sitting next to the tree. But the next day, when I let them all out, he came back in and couldn't stop shaking. He shook and shook and we wrapped him in blankets but couldn't warm him up. Then he lost the use of his back legs and his eyes went to a faraway place. Our vet, Tim , a most wonderful human being and amazing vet knew what was happening and had told me, "Just call me. I don't care if it is Christmas Day. I'll come out." So we called Tim and held Carlo and waited. He finally arrived and everyone, including all the other dogs, were around Carlo in the entry. I held him in my lap and he seemed to know what was going on. He was completely relaxed in my arms. We told him it was going to be okay and that he could go now and be at peace. His best friend, our dog Angus, set by his head the whole time. When he was gone we were all crying so hard we couldn't see. He had his rawhide in his mouth and we couldn't get it out. We couldn't bury him because the ground was frozen so Tim was going to take him to be cremated. I insisted on carrying him by myself to the car and then because I was crying so hard and he weighed 100 pounds, I almost dropped him. After Tim drove away, Angus set on the bottom stair looking out the window down the driveway all day, he never moved all day.
Dear friends,
Your comments and stories are truly moving me!
Thank You...please keep reading and sending your stories.
I am inspired.
xo milady
Oh, I am so sorry to hear about your dog! So wonderful though that he found you and you found him.
Our last two dogs are rescues, it is hard to understand how people can not take good care of their companions.
Stephanie- You're killing me!
I posted about sweet Lucky today. I am so sorry for your loss. It must have just devastated your whole family. OH.
The pictures you included...priceless. Wow.
Thank you for rescuing this sweet soul and giving him shelter, love and comfort for 5 years.
Love,
kierstin
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