Just another day...almost

How has it been SIXTEEN YEARS?

Today is 12 January. Just another day...almost. This day took on spectacularly awful meaning when I was 17 - but that is past trauma and I'm not here to rehash that. Let's just say that an awful
experience made me who I am today, in part at least.

In 2006 it was the day that I lost my Profee. He had a tumor in his noggin that was growing rather aggressively and inhibiting his ability to open his mouth all the way. In addition, it was placing a lot of pressure on his considerably large and brilliant brain, and he was changing - his patience was waning and his perception of events was skewed. I remember driving to Anderson, SC from Montgomery, AL where we lived to see the only vet to whom I'd trust my sweet greyhounds. I remember being out to grab a bite of lunch while Profee was being sedated and the lump on his noggin x-rayed with a view to biopsy whilst he was under.

I remember the phone call with the results - them telling me that while he was the sweetest dog and the other half of my soul, for sure, that he was also a 75lb dog with the body of a top athlete, and that if his misunderstanding of a situation and pain continued to increase at the rate we'd seen, I might be putting my other two greyhounds and my cats in danger. The kind vet also said that he would be remiss if he didn't mention that I could be putting my self in danger as a single person with a pack of hounds and cats if one of the hounds decided I was a threat.

That vet was right to mention that, and to this day while I hate the decision I made just to not wake him up...I hate that I didn't tell him goodbye or gaze into those eyes one more time...I don't regret it. The damage it would have caused if he had snapped suddenly - which was a real threat, since the tumor was just behind his ear on the top of his head and pressing on his skull - would have been irrevocable. He had already snarled at me for surprising him more than once if the room was dark or he was asleep. I didn't want to remember him that way, and I didn't want him to be lost to me like that. He trusted me to make that decision for him and I did.

It was around this same date that I lost my sweet kitty girl, Franny. Franny and her brother Zooey moved to West Virginia, Athens, and South Carolina with me. While she made no secret of the fact that she loved my ex-husband infinitely more than she did me, we tolerated each other. We both loved Zooey, so we had that in common. When the time came for her, I knew again that it was the right thing. We'd lost her brother Zooey a year or so prior and she was just wasting away. I think she would have loved England and adored Simon, but maybe her little kitty heart only had room for one Daddy.

I haven't lost anyone on 12 January in a long time, and maybe I can give this day another try. It is close to my sweet Ciaragh's birthday - and she reminds me so much of my Profee that I wonder if he sent her to us...he and Daisy that is, who never met on earth but I have no trouble imagining in collaboration at the Bridge. Maybe 12 January won't make me twitchy in future and maybe the 17 year old me who cursed this day and all it brought me will be able to rest.

Maybe.