Crash

As of a couple months ago, we've got a walker! Our boy was in no rush to get on his two feet, but he's making up for lost time and is all over the place these days. During one of his first, longer jaunts a couple months ago, this happened.



Poor kid! I'm not one for parading your children's embarrassing videos online for the world to see, but I felt like this was too funny to keep to myself. After a few tears, he was right back up, walking, and trying to find and play with the furry offender.

Marshall is my brother and sister-in-law's puppy and he and Sawyer are becoming fast friends, despite their run-ins. Sweet little guy!

Our Sweet Molly

It is with a heavy and broken heart that I can finally bring myself to write about the loss of our sweet Molly. After refusing to eat and some other complications, TK and I noticed that our girl was looking bloated and wasn't acting like herself. Sluggish and weary, we learned from the vet that she was bleeding into her abdomen, and he was fairly certain that it was caused by some kind of cancer. It was obvious that she was going fast and that she might not even last the rest of the day. We brought her home so that we could spend what little time we had left with her and she had some visitors. Sensing it was time, TK's strong arms embraced her body that had so quickly grown weak over the day's short hours. As Hauna, Taylor, TK and I said our last goodbyes and she breathed her last at the vet, we knew we were losing a part of our family. Just a few days ago, TK had taken her to play at the beach, where she ran and swam and didn't tire. And now, all of a sudden, she's not here.

I'm certain that I cannot write anything that would do justice to the love my family has for Molly. For eleven wonderful years she has been the truest friend and our constant companion. I was always so proud of her... she always listened, never barked, didn't bother people, and was always gentle. She lived to please and to love.

Over the past week it's been so strange to adjust to life without her. It feels lonely in the house without her keeping us company. Sometimes I think I hear her collar rattling, or her paws coming. I forget that I don't need to make sure her water bowl is filled or that I don't need to take her on a walk. Sometimes, without thinking, I almost start to talk to her...to tell her not to worry about that rolling thunder, or to ask her if she'd like a treat for being such a good girl. I can barely stand to sweep the floor, knowing that slowly, but surely, some day there won't be any more of her hair to sweep up.

I want to feel her soft ears. I want her to shake my hand like she used to with out me even asking. I miss hearing her and TK wrestling upstairs having the time of their lives. I need to come home after work to her wagging tail and her big smile. I wish I could once more see her circle a few times before she'd find a place to sit. I want her to make us laugh again by jumping into our old swimming pool and finding her way out by way of the pool ladder. I want to take her on a hike and see her run about three miles for every one of mine walked. I wish I could to see her legs running while she sleeps, chasing rabbits or finding dumpsters full of garbage in her dreams.

My furry sister was such a sweet, pretty, and smart girl and it was my honor and privilege to know her. I cherish every walk I took her on and every time I stopped what I was doing to play with her or just sit and be with her. I'm thankful for all the trips on which we took her along over the last year because we couldn't stand to leave her alone or be without her sweet spirit. I'm so glad her quality of life was so healthy until just the other day. I'm grateful that she loved and embraced TK and that he had the chance to be her owner. He showered her with his love and energy.

So many people have let us know how much they enjoyed her and have shared so many kind words with us on her passing. Even people who didn't like dogs loved being around her and I know she was truly a saint among dogs. I hope she knew how much we loved her and what a perfect and good girl she was. This deep wound will surely heal, but I believe it will be fresh for a while still.

City Dog

Toward the end of last summer, Molly finally arrived in Chicago, back in full health after her earlier run-in with a camp dumpster. I like pets a little less than the next person, but I am not opposed to a family dog, and certainly not opposed to by own "furry sister." Lucky for me this fall and winter I got to see her whenever I wanted because TK so graciously offered to adopt her until my parents wanted her back...or indefinitely if he fell in love with her (of which there was a high probability).

Molly stayed with my mom and dad during and after our wedding and that was about all TK could take! We missed her a lot, so she is now back with us here in Chicago. Though she will always be a country dog at heart, she has made adjustments to life in the big city. I'm excited for a new spring and summer with the old girl. Welcome home, Mollers!

Silly Dog...

After selling their house, my parents moved across the lake to Mission Meadows, the camp I went to as a child and worked at during my summers off while in college. I originally planned my trip home this past weekend to bring Molly - our dog - out to Chicago so that she could live with TK for the summer. She's a good dog, but last week she had a taste for garbage and managed to eat her fill of clear plastic wrap (covered in camp leftovers) and completely obstruct her stomach. Between visits to the vet's to see my "furry sister" (as my mom refers to her) in her post-operation kennel, I spent the weekend at camp with my dad, mom, and brother Taylor.

I also got to see my cousins Caleb, Kristi, and Mackenzie, uncles and aunts, and my friends Betsy, Annika, Jay, and Mathis. I am back in Chicago with no dog, but she is on the mend and will come out in a few weeks. What a clown.

Life and Death in a Tank

Life in a tank was good for my betta. Roger and I go back to September 2006, only 8 months ago, when I thought it might be nice to have a small life to care for. He was a sweet guy, as bettas go. He ate his freeze dried bloodworms like a good boy and swam around in excitement when I would return from a long day's work. I cleaned his tank regularly and tried my hardest to make sure the water was the right temperature, between 72-82 degrees, etc. etc.

Roger took a turn for the worse a about a month ago. He seemed bored and lethargic. He would just sit there, like nothing even mattered anymore. I started coming home to a bum who took no notice of my entry. His water was clean, he wasn't fed too little or too much... the right chemicals and conditioners had been administered to his bowl.

It must have just been his time to go. I left Chicago Friday night for Easter after feeding him with the expectation that I might be coming home to a dead fish on Sunday. Bettas can have complicated digestive tracks, or so I have read, so occasionally you are supposed to give them a day off from eating to allow them to clear things out. Sweet Roger. When I came home after the weekend he was face down and convulsing, trying to burrow himself into the river rocks below. This nut still convulsed for a while before I finally decided to euthanize him in the most humane way i knew how (believe me, I read up). I put him and some of his water into a small glass tea light holder several times bigger than him and put him in the freezer. This slowed down his heart rate so that he eventually fell asleep - while, at the same time, turned him and his water into an ice cube.

Rest in peace, buddy. You had a good life. You were the best - and only - fish I ever had. I won't replace you with another. I know you are in fish heaven feasting on real bloodworms and swimming in 82 degree crystal clear waters. Glad to have known you.