Furry Friends

It was not long after returning from Gulf Shores that I was required to report for school.  Just  a quick note here.  When you teach school and your husband dies during the summer there is no bereavement time. I had roughly three weeks from the time Mike passed to get myself together and return to the classroom. I was still learning how to breathe on my own when I crawled into my car and headed out for convocation that year.

When someone passes away, the living are inundated with family, friends, and co-workers.  My emotions were raw, and I was running on auto pilot.  Nod. Smile. Say thank you. Repeat. I came to a point early on in which I had to find myself a safe place.  I pulled Tammi and Paul aside and let them know how overwhelmed I was. We decided that if I went into my room and closed the door, that would be my signal to them that I needed solitude.  Though out the day, I would wander away to my room, close the door, and crawl into my bed.  Laying there, I could hear all of those who loved Mike sharing stories of him.  I could hear the grandchildren laughing and playing seemingly oblivious to what was going on around them.  The doorbell rang incessantly as food and flowers arrived. It was chaotic.  At night the traffic would slow and it would just be my kids and the grandchildren. It was late into the night before stillness would come to my home.

After the funeral, that all stopped.  Paul, Julie, Sam, Jonah, and Norah Beth traveled back home to Texas.  Tammi and Jared returned to her job, and Jaxon and Kayla returned to their regularly scheduled activities. We finished the prepaid vacation and life fell back into a normal schedule for everyone…except me.

It was then that I noticed the total silence that invaded my home.  Buddy kitty paced the house each evening looking for Mike.  He would meow and sit at the front door for about an hour before he gave up the wait.  He knew Mike’s Honda and would watch patiently at the door for it to round the corner.  The garage door would begin to rise and kitty would race to the back door to greet him.  It was an everyday event until now.  The Honda sat in the garage.  When I would open the service door to the garage, Kitty would race to the car, pace around it and cry.  Opening the door and allowing him entry to the vehicle would result in his exploration and eventual return to the inside of the house where Buddy would take up residence in Mike’s chair.  The same turn of events….every single day for months.  It was heartbreaking to watch.  Buddy was Mike’s kitty.  He tolerated me for food and liter box changes until months into that first year he gave in.

I would wander in from work, sit in my chair, read for a bit, and head for bed by 8:00. My meals consisted of Cheetos and Frosted Flakes. The TV rarely, if ever came on.  Before Mike’s death, we would watch the news, sit down to dinner, talk about our day, and then we would read or watch a little TV.  So much of life had changed.  My life went silent.  I came home to an empty house and a kitty that was grieving as much as me.  Poor old kitty did not even have a GriefShare group that met once a week…lol…he was doing it all on his own.

When Mike initially passed, I made the decision that I would not make any serious life decisions. In July of 2017, I was laying on my couch surfing through FaceBook and the cutest puppy you have ever seen appeared on my screen.  It took me about five minutes to make the decision to call and see if the pup was still available. I was too late.  The puppy, a male, Shih Szu/Havanese mix was taken.  The owner put me on her list for a future litter of pups in about a year or so. I was soooo bummed.

An hour later, my phone rang.  It was the owner of the puppy.  The young lady who placed her deposit decided against the little guy.  My heart literally turned over in my chest.  I grabbed my car keys, jumped in the car, and made a trip to Smithville after stopping to pick up Kayla.  I knew he was mine when I walked in the door. He was a huge white fluffy ball of fur with dark eyes that totally captured my heart. That day Granger, named for Hermonie Granger from Harry Potter, came home to live with me.

He was my reason to get home every evening.  We took long walks in the neighborhood, played catch, and took rides to cemetery. He cuddled with me at night on the foot of my chair and snuggled up next to me each evening as I turned in for the night. He comforted me and loved me.  I totally fell head over heels for the cutest fluff ball on the face of the earth.

The quiet house filled with barks. growls, meows, and tussles between the two.  Buddy even threw off his doldrums.  Granger sniffed, poked, and prodded him until he had to rise from Mike’s chair and join the fun. It makes me smile to think of him as the fluff ball.  Three years later he is still by my side loving me unconditionally…well…except when there is a treat involved.