Staring at the dash

I was going to come in this morning and write about my car and my bike ride to work in the winter muck. But when I scanned my favorites, I found some news that brought me to a halt. I didn’t quite hit a brick wall, but a brick wall popped up in front of me. I had to slam on the brakes and turn into a slight skid to keep from hitting.

So now I am sitting here, in front of this wall. I am trying to decide what to do next. Which way to go. How best to proceed since this wall has popped up. I realize the necessity of continuing my day, of just driving around the wall and going on… but I have to face the reality of that wall. Decide what it means to me.

A friend of mine journaled that yesterday his folks told him about his dog dying. It wasn’t actually his dog, it was his mom’s dog, specifically. But it was the second dog that he grew up with. The dog passed away due to complications from vehicular impact. He died on Sunday, my friend was just told yesterday, at work. He works in the same building as his step-dad.

This is complicated for me emotionally, because his mother is my best-friend that I lamented over on Monday. Was it coincident that I was really missing her? Or maybe she was missing me too?

The dog’s name was Harli. He was a sheetzsu (spelling? gesudhite!) like-dog. I’m actually not certain of his breed right now. But he was short and smart and just adorable when well trimmed, and…scruffy when not. He was very protective. If I ever made a “menacing” move towards one of his family, he’d bristle and try to get between us. If I chased them or grabbed them, he would come after me, jumping up and biting my butt! (several years ago, he actually clinged for a distance of several feet once).

The really funny thing is, we would tease him that way often enough, that if ANOTHER friend would “menace” the family, Harli would try to bite ME.

I think he actually realized it was funny, and was just going along with the gag. He was smart that way. He was very good at playing the straightman to a joke. He also had a sense of humor that was all his own.

He would get “wound up”… you could get him excited about company or playing or whatever, and he would just run ballistically through the house. If there was a set of doors that allowed him to run through a set of rooms in a circle circuit, that was his favorite thing. He’d just run his circuit, over and over again. Eventually he’d burn himself out, but usually, the humans would stop him by snagging him as he went past and just hold him til he chilled.

He was very pliable. He loved to stretch. To greet you he’d run up to you and extend his paws to you. You grabbed them and lifted, and he would arch his rubbery spine toward the ground. Then you could lift him of the ground, and he’d just hyperextend himself. He did actually enjoy this. He would follow you around until you did it. If you didn’t, he took it as you were snubbing him.

He had some bad habits. As kids got older, he found himself alone more and more. He shared the house with cats (and, he did share. He really enjoyed the company of the other animals) but sometimes it was clear that he was jealous, or at least, lonely. So he pooped in the bedrooms during the day, even though he had an electric dog door out to a large dog-run.

The family at first thought the solution was to baby-gate the areas off from him, and clean them so there’d be no smell. But the gate just isolated him more. Evenutally, the gates were taken down, and this bad habit of a family member was just accepted.

Little person that he was (and flexible gymnast), he thought he should be at the table when people ate. If all the chairs were not full, he would wiggle and wrangle his way onto the table top. He was usually set to the ground, but he wasn’t scolded severely. Then he would sit and wait, sometimes quietly, sometimes begging, for food. He got whatever was leftover, or what anyone chose to share with him.

Once I was eating – PB&J sandwich with fries, and I got up to get the ketchup bottle. I came back and sat down… and my sandwich was gone. My friend was stifling a hysterical giggle. She said I turned my back and this head popped up, took my sandwich and disappered. We laughed for about 20 minutes.

He was very lovable, and loving. On nights when I spent the night there, he’d usually curl up with me for an hour or so, a couple of times a night. But what he usually did, was guarded the hallway or doorway into where family was. If some were in one room and some in another, he’d find the closest common denominator and lay down there.

I was honored that when I was over and sleeping on the couch, that he laid in the entryway, between the living room and the hall to the bedrooms.

I had known Harli for most of the time he lived with my friends. To know he is gone makes my world a little less bright.

How much more so for my best-friend?

Thus, I do not know what to do.

When her husband’s (also a friend) cat died, I sent a big bouquet of flowers. This was a serious loss, for to him, the cat was his best-friend. So the loss for him was huge.

I want to send something to my friend. I want to share my sympathy. I want to share my loss of Harli. But…I’ve tested this idea on the staff here and they suggest that’s a bad idea. That sucks. I don’t know what do to. Thats not quite it. I’ve decided what I will do is send flowers to my friend who’s on OD. If he wants to share them with his folks, that will be his choice.

I wrestle though, with if this is the BEST thing I can do.

I guess, under the circumstances, it is the best I can do.

[clearing my eyes, looking up from the dash, putting the car back in gear, and slowly pulling away along the length of the wall, headed towards a corner I must turn]