Pax out

This pain is excruciating. Even if my brain knows that the timing was perfect, that he didn’t suffer, he lived a great life, and all dogs die- my heart is in pure agony.

A few days ago Pax seemed off.

I mean more off than his normal off that had started when we thought we were losing him last December.

I sensed it was time.

So after a chat with his vet, I decided to take him on a 90 mile road trip,  to enjoy one last trip to our camp. 

Gabi was so kind to accompany me.

We spent a couple of hours out there so that he could get one last paddle in, and a last ATV ride in too. Things he loved to do.

I think the real reason I wanted to take him to the pond was to see if he had the strength, energy and desire to paddleboard. 

That was going to tell me all I needed to know about making his euthanasia appointment. 

Riding my stand up paddle board was his absolute favorite activity in the world.

The moment he saw the paddle board his eyes lit up and he tried to get up but couldn’t.

So I carried him onto the board and we paddled for almost an hour. 

Gabi and I took turns. 

We knew it was going to be his last ride so we weren’t going to half ass it.

Then we took him (and the two other dogs) on an ATV ride until the sun almost set.

The sky was beautiful that day.

I remember because Gabi pointed it out.

I’m glad she did because I honestly don’t think I would have looked up because of how preoccupied I was with Pax’s “lasts.”

It was after 10 pm Thursday night by the time we got back to our house.

I fed him part of my junior bacon cheeseburger before we settled down on the dining room floor.

I slept beside him.

Any time he woke up, I was awake too.

Actually I don’t think I slept.

His breathing pattern changed through the night.

He was clearly on the decline.

On Friday morning I called the vet and made the appointment for 4 pm.

Kika was given the day off from work because her boss knew what we were going through.

So while waiting for Steve to come home from work- Kika, Gabi, and I plus Roxie and Boomer kept Pax company.

He had a little bit of the banana that my friend Julie brought over at 7:30 am. She stopped in to say goodbye to him. 

Julie was one of Pax’s favorite people.

At 10:30 am Pax had his last meal: Haagen Dazs strawberry ice cream.

As if to assure us that we were making the right decision, Pax 

started crossing himself over the rainbow bridge before his scheduled appointment. 

As soon as Steve got home 

we quickly moved his appointment up so that a vet and the lovely technician named Ashley could gently assist him.

Steve, Kika, Gabi and I were holding him until he was gone.

He died a little bit after 3 pm. 

Immediately after, Steve and I made the 90 mile journey back to camp to lay him to rest.

His grave overlooks my prayer labyrinth.

I woke up today feeling completely unmoored.

It’s not just because the past seven months have been consumed by caring for this guy either.  It’s because Pax has been my faithful companion for 14 years.

This guy has been with me through all the ups and downs of mothering, wife-ing and being.

From giving me the confidence and reason to conquer a drive from Pittsburgh to Key West, Florida,

to walking me out of depression and despair,

To being beside me as I slept in a tent SOLO in the woods.

Pax helped me to become.

When Pax met me I was a different person than I am today.

I would like to think  actually no, I am sure that he left me a better person than when he found me.

The thing is, I don’t want to sleep tonight because I am afraid to wake up to a world without Pax in it.

We said goodbye to Pax today.
He was 14 years old.
These photos are from yesterday and today.
The moment we knew that it was time to say goodbye, Gabi and I drove him one last time to our camp so that he could get one last paddle in, and one last ATV ride in too.
And then just like that, today-
He pretty much started crossing himself over the rainbow bridge before his scheduled appointment. So we quickly moved his appointment up so that
the vet and the lovely technician named Ashley could assist him gently.
Steve, Kika, Gabi and I were holding Pax.

RIP Pax
5/21/2008-7/29/2022

(To be continued)

No Turkeys Were Killed Today.

While Gabi slept.

The Dislocation of Pax

20 Minutes

In an effort to stay productive, I've been testing out a new format in my mornings.
I set my phone timer for 20 minutes and break up my schedule into 20  minute increments.
Even my prayer time I have sliced into 3 blocks of 20:
Not necessarily in this order, I set
20 minutes to listen (meditation),
20 minutes to read (my Bible),
20 minutes to write my prayers down.
I started writing my prayers, because I discovered that I can stay better focused when I write them down instead of when I mutter or think them.

I've split my workouts into 20's as well.

(this pace kills me btw, as I am much more comfortable with a 13 min/mile)
20 minute cardio, 20 minute weights.
Laundry folding and sorting-I try to get it done in 20.
House cleaning, (I gladly stop after 20 minutes)
Emailing and Facebooking....20.
Needless to say, I find myself being more productive.

The other day, I was feeling so productive and UMOTY-ish (thanks SL)  that I even made homemade Broccoli and Cheddar soup for the first time in my life.

I was so proud of it that I kept milking my family for compliments.
Finally K mentioned that I am the complete opposite of Chinese ladies, that downplay the excellent meals they make by saying their dish may need more soy sauce....
What can I say, I ain't chinese.
But then again, I really believe that when one becomes inspired enough to create, (or in this case, cook) you feel like bursting...(or bragging).
Speaking of creating, (or bragging)  the extreme cold has given the girls a couple of school cancellations.
I was very proud to announce to my FB world that during the days off,
G took it upon herself to create something with a friend:

Creative juices overflowing...when she ran out of canvas...she turned her art on the dog:

Full Disclosure: If my kids had their way, (especially G, who seems addicted to Netflix) they would lie on our kitchen floor and watch TV all day...

And now my 20 minutes to write on this blog is up.

A Monday In September

I shall bathe my dog. (and then I have some uncomfortable things to attend to)

Upward Facing Dog

Pax Does Not Know That He Is A Bulldog.

He and I have been going on miles and miles of therapeutic walks.
Miles and miles.
He is behaving in a way that is completely unexpected.
He is not a herder, yet he herds me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In case you are wondering, I am not clinically depressed.
I am going through a storm.
A flagellating period of self vitriol and doubt.
Without a net.
-sans prozac
-sans ketel one

Just as I want to feel happy without a leveling drug, I also want to feel this
--this without buffers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am on auto-pilot.
I clip my dog's toenails.
I crank my daughter's palate expander.
I wash bedsheets.
I do laundry.
I scrub toilets.
I pick up dog poop.
I feed my family.
I am a wife.
I do lunch duty.
I am a mother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the moment,  I can not be a good sister, a daughter nor a friend.
It's not that I don't want to be, it's just that I need to work on some internal business before I can offer myself to others.
Pax though, is a different story.
Either he does not know that he is a bulldog and acts uncharacteristic of his breed or he does know,  but is  being selfless and attending to my needs.
That is unconditional love.

I hope I am not allergic to my bulldog because I am not giving him up.

How owning a dog helps fight the blues

I would have never thought that getting a dog could help fight depression.
After my 10 year old boxer named Junior died, I vowed never to own another dog.
I welcomed not having to pick up after him and I also did not miss his inconvenient habits.
I managed to convince myself that I was not a "dog person."
And then Pax happened.
(I say happened because truly--he was an accidental purchase.)
Almost two months later I realize he is a blessing.
I am now on a schedule.

No matter how disheveled I look, I am outdoors walking Pax.
A Bulldog's face is an absolute scene stealer.

Cars literally stop and back up just to see him.
This dog definitely prompts conversation and increases my social interaction.
I read somewhere that scientists in South Africa have proven that pet ownership works like an anti-depressant because of how it can increase the release of endorphins and other hormones linked to pleasure.
Personally I have noticed that having a dog makes me reach beyond my own blahs to care for him and in turn makes me a more productive person.


Here lies the beauty of this dog.
Pax's non-judgemental companionship and unconditional love can only do good not only for my mental health but also for my daughters' self esteem.
He helps minimize tension and stress and he helps increase our compassion for living things.
He enhances our family life.


In addition to the tactile comfort I get from his soft wrinkly fur and the smell of his doggy breath, he provides me with a relationship that is unlike relationships with humans-- Humans might take offense with my wrinkly skin and my morning breath.

Whirlwind

We are all suckers for an attractive face.

The dopamine jolt brought about by the sight of a powerful chest, a strong chin and a cute nose on a symmetrical face is sometimes so powerful that it is
love at first sight and...temporary loss of sanity.

A decision to love based solely on looks is trouble.

Adrenaline is a traitor. Any emotional experience that pushes the sensory system can distort your perception.
The problem with this type of love is that you can not always trust your instincts.

And there is a price to pay for taking him home just because he is drop dead gorgeous.

But there was something about this guy.

There was something quite dignified about his arrogance that attracted me to him.

I was not even looking.

I was still reeling from a past hurt--so I definitely was not ready for him.

I knew nothing about him.
Nothing.

I did not know what experiences he may have had.

How he was raised,

who his parents were--nor how he got along with his siblings, if any.

I had no idea what he would be like in different times of the day

or whether he'd be cranky when tired or hungry.

Heck, it would have been nice if I had known beforehand that he snored.
So, it has only been while living with him, that I have gotten to know him.

It has been a rough 30 days to get to where we are today but the benefits of working hard on a relationship instead of giving up, far outweigh the sleepless nights, the pain and the tears.

I have found the following tips helpful in improving my relationship with him:

*Give attention to the positive--praise anything you want to see more of.

*Do not call his name just to reprimand him so that he does not associate your call with something unpleasant.

*During walks or disagreements, instead of pulling the opposite way--stop.
Wait for him to stop pulling. And then proceed. It works like magic.

*Stand your ground yet give him his space. Having a life of your own that includes him but does not revolve around him makes your relationship balanced and stress free. That you always come back builds trust.

*Make sure he gets plenty of stimulation and exercise.

Video of our rough relationship HERE.

Video of our present relationship HERE.

15 years later, I wonder if these tips are applicable to me and Steve.

Happy Anniversary, Steve--I love you.

Pax

I have had a few meltdowns lately.
Yesterday and today.
Yesterday's tears were brought about by the memory of a dog I did not realize I missed.
Today's tears were drawn by a dog that made me smile.
I told Steve really, I just want love and affection.Besides, dogs need normalcy. Routine.
Plus a puppy needs constant attention and discipline.
Since ultimately dog ownership should be the sole decision of the main caregiver,
I mulled over this one.
Stability.
Normalcy.
Routine.
Attention.
Discipline.
Not to mention love and affection.
Everything I want for my family.
We bought the dog today.



And now I can't sleep.