To start off *** last week, May 19-22nd each day, it must have been every right turn: I kid you not. I kept hearing Shawn tell me, “Good job, Mom, before you take a right turn you check the bike lane.” The summer before the fire, Shawn had been riding with me to various places. He kept thanking me for checking the bike lane before taking a right turn. He said it a big deal and that most folks should be more cautious on turns: for bikes, skateboards and folks. I have no idea why his words were sounding in my brain-as if he were right beside me ??? On May 23, 2014, Tiger & Tuffy turned 1 year old. They were born 20 days after Shawn, died. I remember when in Spokane, heading towards Melissa’s place. We came upon this sign. Melissa had thought the Chihuahuas would have been sold by then. I must mention that before my trip, Bob had said how we needed to be thinking of getting ready to get a pup, QT and Cuddlz are getting up in years and when one dies, we don’t want the other alone. Unlike me-normally, when Melissa pointed out the sign, I said, “Let’s go see them.” She seemed a bit hesitant . I told her what Bob had said before my trip. I, then, lickety split found a place to turn around. Usually, I have quick allergic reactions to places that have several critters and figured it would be a mistake for stopping. No reaction !!!. We held the pups—they were so cute, a Jack Russell/Chihuahua mix. We left with all the information- I needed to call Bob and tell him of our find. I told him there was no way we could separate the girls. Bob was thrilled with the price-for the 2.
Here is a recall of May 28, 2004. Bob had gone to work. I was home-alone. It was a Memorial Day weekend—no school bus driving. I remember Zoro seemed fine, he just wanted to rest on the bed. I had gone downstairs to get some things done. I thought it strange that Zoro hadn’t come down, or at least barked for me to come get him. So, I went to check on him. He was sleeping on top of Bob’s sleeping bag. He didn’t even wiggle his tail, when I called his name. I went to pick him up. No movement, but slobber was coming out of his mouth. I held him hoping he was just having some kind of moment. It was a chilly day with lots of pouring rain. I had the fireplace on, so I put Zoro in front of it-maybe he was just cold. Still nothing. I had a blanket wrapped around him-I thought the register might give him better heat. He still had not moved. As a sad thought started developing, I called Mom. They had raised Chihuahuas, when she was young, maybe she had an idea. Her idea was not what I wanted to begin to accept. So, we decided I would call Zoro’s vet friend Chris. Vet. Chris said the same things Mom had said. Our call ended. In years past, Vet Chris had done a couple surgeries on Zoro, which probably allowed him to live longer. Thanks, Vet. Chris. During Zoro’s recovery-he had stayed with Vet. Chris’ family. Apparently, he was a sweetheart to them-even though they were strangers. After Vet. Chris and I were finished speaking, he told me to keep him posted. I decided Zoro needed more fireplace heat. Nothing worked. His body started to stiffen. My head knew this was a sign I did not want to deal with. My mind started recalling the day Meilssa, Shawn and I had gone to Troutdale to pick up—1 year old Zoro. He had to go to a new home, because he did not like the man of the house, or get along with the other animals-he caused too many problems. The woman was quite at her wits end. Our ride-to meet Bob, was very pleasant. Melissa and Shawn gave Zoro little treats. I knew Bob’s schedule. I had told the lady I needed to see how Zoro reacted to Bob, before I made my final decision. Zoro took to Bob, right off. Zoro took to the four of us, quickly. Our first night with Zoro was restless. He was refusing a comfy pillow beside our bed. He preferred Bob’s sleeping bag, on top, at the foot part. He didn’t like anyone else, well, except my Mom, and Bob’s Mom. That’s it. When folks visited us, we would warn them, about Zoro’s sneak attacks. Upon entering our home, Zoro always made sure everyone knew they were not welcome. He would then let the quests go around him. He would follow their passing with a Zoro sneak attack. He liked pant legs or ankles. I then, recalled a time in O.C. it might have been June of ’95. Shawn had taken Zoro out for a run, in the heat. That precious dog, he was so overheated, but not wanting to disappoint his young owner, Zoro kept going. I was pretty upset with Shawn for not realizing why Zoro was panting so hard. After some rest, Zoro recovered. Zoro had been very dear to me. There was a period of time when Melissa and Shawn weren’t with us. At the slightest hint of a tear or sadness, Zoro was at my side, needing a hug. He made it his mission to be by my side through many sad moments. Bob’s Grandmother moved in with us. Zoro had someone new to give attention to. He seemed so content. He didn’t mind Grandma Klause calling him: she or Susie. He loved sitting with her, in her chair. He recovered well after the many times Grandma Klause had forgotten he was next to her-when she stood-Zoro would land hard on the slippery wood floor. After being held for a while he would push through the pain. Back to Memorial weekend 2004. I finally had to admit to myself that Zoro was no longer living, but just in case, I wrapped him, in his blanket and put him in the garage. The freezer blew out warm air-once in a while and if Zoro woke up he wouldn’t be too cold. I would complete a task and check on Zoro dog. I did this several times. When Bob got home, I showed him , Zoro. It was getting late and I knew I needed to get Zoro buried. I went out to Zoro mountain and dug the hole-it was a challenge, the tears and the rain—let’s just say it was a very hard task. The clay soil was none too yielding. After I finished digging the hole, I couldn’t just place Zoro in that cold hole. I cut some lavender and made a cushy bed. I placed Zoro’s stiff body and cut some more lavender and placed it on top of Zoro. I bawled as I replaced the clay-soil-trying to make the pieces small. I didn’t want to pack it-what if Zoro woke up ? I wanted him to be able to breathe or get out. This whole time, the rain had been pouring—so hard !!! My tears were not noticeable. My cries were covered because of the loud noise from the raindrops pelting down, on Zoro and me, on this gloomy Memorial day weekend. As the days passed, I had to fix Zoro mountain, a bit. I finally put down some grass seed. It seems it didn’t take Bob long to start internetting for a new pet. I, though, was reluctant-I did not want to go through this pain, again. I remember April 2013, Shawn was in his cardio chair. I showed him a photo Bob had found of Zoro. When I held up the photo to Shawn, he knew right away that it was Zoro. He mouthed Zoro’s name and he had the most precious smile of recall. He looked at that photo for quite awhile. You see, at the hospital, I had come up with an idea so photos could be placed where Shawn could look at them from his cardio chair. He had figured out how to position his head so he could view through the small openings of his eyelids. Zoro died May 28, 2004. This May seems harder than last year. I think that last year I was in a kind of numb stage, after Shawn died—for a few months-longer than others-? Who knows. The realness keeps slamming me in the chest-quite similar to the feeling of that horse’s hoof— in my post, “Ride Them Bareback”, but with many repeats. I have a pause, then the blow hits again—the realness I am referring to is, Shawn’s goneness. The reason I wrote a lengthy, about Zoro: every end of May, I remember his passing. I remember how long it took me to accept his death. I remember how excruciatingly hard it was to put that first shovel of clay soil on top of Zoro. I remember the tears I cried when Bob wanted another dog. I couldn’t replace Zoro ! So, if I was that way for a precious pet, why would it be less for a child that I gave birth to, through a very challenging birth process ??? As, I am finishing tapping the keys for this post, Everlasting God by Lincoln Brewster, is playing on K-Love. I heard that song many many times during Shawn’s situation. Today as May comes to an end, the pain from Shawn’s goneness is more than I knew it could be. There seems to be no silver lining-that I can see. There is a verse in that song, that I put on Shawn’s February 14, 1989 plaque.
Now, “I’M Worn”, is playing. I first heard this, shortly after Shawn died.