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Showing posts from October, 2015


On a warm summer day eight years ago, my nieces and I were bathing Ladybug in my parents' tub. Lauren was five years old at the time, Sarah just three. Ladybug was a saintly cocker spaniel, whose puppy good-looks and gentle disposition made her a kid favorite.  Unfortunately, her sweetness also led to being used as a practice pup (read: target) for little kids who wanted to learn to leash-walk a dog, take a puppy to show-and-tell, or maybe even dress up a defenseless animal... Bug tolerated it all without complaint.

On this summer day, we were bathing the dogs after the little ladies had "accidentally" put a little bit of my new makeup on them.  Ladybug went first, and as we repeatedly lathered and rinsed her, the water turned all the earth tones and gentle shimmers of my newly ruined eyeshadow palette.  The girls and I were in shorts and tank tops, getting grubbier by the minute.  As any parent knows, the cleaner the bath recipient, the filthier the bath-giver.

When we pa…

Jellybeans and lies

I put our dying dog to sleep this summer.  By that I mean, I took her to the vet to be euthanized.  It wasn't the first time I've had to do that, and sadly it won't be the last. Because we adopt and rescue elderly and sometimes terminally ill dogs, canine end of life care and decisions are commonplace in our household.

One of the things that's been on my mind, especially during this past year, is how the near-constant rotation of dogs affects our kids, particularly Lili.  It had been four years since we last said good-bye to one of our dogs, and her understanding of the process and result is completely different at seven years than it was as a wee toddler.  

A few weeks after Jellybean flew off to heaven, Lili sat down to dinner and immediately noticed a package on the nearby counter.  It was the little tin of JB's ashes that had just come home from the veterinarian. While Lili studied them, we talked about what a sweet, gentle little dog she was, and how much we mi…