tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78862908926751433972024-03-13T08:01:11.801-07:00The Lug of My LifeReflections on Living with, Loving and Losing My Best FriendBrandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-8398219105814324222014-01-21T14:46:00.000-08:002014-01-21T14:46:43.095-08:00Wishes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After the layered holiday memories of my Lug battered my emotional stability; I was then surprisingly sucked into the undertoe again during the one-year anniversary of Finn's passing. I sobbed while I tapped out every word of <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2014/01/today-and-always.html">my last post</a> and found it fascinating that, after months of recalling memories with a smile and feeling so peaceful when I close my eyes and see Finn's goofy grin that, wham...knocked into the abyss. Again. But, once I read through my own prose a few times; I felt I said what I needed to say, walked with a lighter heart and was myself again. I had not realized how much of me slipped away when my Lug's health started to descend; it is nice to almost be back.<br />
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I started this blog as a way to share my healing journey. And, hopefully, let someone who is sitting alone, in an empty room, crippled by silence and wondering if the tears will ever stop, know, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Grief sucks and throughout this past year I have felt amazing one moment then in the next instant, could barely put one foot in front of the other. I even found my way to a grief counseling group and was stunned when not one, but two women shared stories of not liking their new animal at first.<br />
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Then, I met a dog named Cappucino, I liked him a lot. Lil' Big Head was instantly in love with me. After all the paperwork was finalized and I walked Gavin onto the sidewalk, I felt overwhelmed. But, the sensation was different than those first couple of moments with Finn. I was terrified I was going to break my Lug of a puppy because I was so clueless, no matter how in love I was. Gavin was a stranger who was coming home to live with me, bad or good and he was mine. My stomach started rolling as I drove, and I rubbed some hand sanitizer across my un-manicured dog trainer's palms while we sat at a light. I kept glancing back at Lil' Big Head, who looked quite cozy and thinking, "ok, I'm really doing this". Mundane activities like driving, that I easily I approached with Finn suddenly became awkward because there was this unknown creature with a history I would never know riding next to me. When I opened the lid, Gavin sniffed upwards into air with the most peculiar, pointed look on his face then shoved his nose right into my cheek. And, suddenly a slideshow of all the scary, sometimes downright bizarre and dangerous behavior problems I have seen over the years ran through my brain.<br />
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When we arrived home, I tried to play fetch with Gavin, but Lil' Big Head was hellbent on playing tug. I stopped the game because when Finn growled while gripping his ducky in his mouth; I knew his grumbles meant nothing more than he having a blast. And, I also had the carefree confidence that my Lug would never put his teeth on a human, ever. But, at the time, I did not know if the strange little dog sharing my house would consider biting me. As I was trying to put the squeaky toy into the cabinet; Lil' Big Head was overexcited and we had been a pair for barely an hour. I saw giant white teeth come at my hand but the clumsy puppy missed the ball and his head rammed into the bridge of my nose. Blood squirted EVERYWHERE. And, again, Gavin stared right at my face, his lips puckered tight while he trailed me to the bathroom and sat, waiting and watching.<br />
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I later learned what a curious little guy Gavin was and he was not plotting my death. And, as the months passed and we played, snuggled and listened to each other; I began to love Lil' Big Head. Last weekend, Gavin was showing off his ridiculously savvy dog skills while a client worked with her dog a few feet away to reduce her pup's fear of other dogs. I was watching Mindy, to assure she was not worrying or staring at Gavin. Mindy likes to bark, but that's all she is capable of. As much as I love my job; I would never put Gavin near a dog I thought would hurt him, never. Completely focused on my client and her dog, I could feel Lil' Big Head's gaze. When they walked away for a quick break; I looked down and all I saw were those giant white teeth again. Gavin's smile took up his whole face and those beautiful, old-soul, cocoa-brown eyes looking to me for partially for guidance, but mostly, staggering adoration. It was in that moment, I realized how deeply infatuated I am now with Gavin.<br />
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I thought about my sad poem being my last post, but, I also felt strongly about wanting to say thank you to all <br />
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who have religiously read my musings over the past year. I am truly blessed. And, this day, back in 1999, my Lug entered the world. Finn changed my life forever, in the most fantastic way. So, to celebrate my Lug's birthday and all the joy he brought to my life; I have started volunteering again. And, Gavin and I went to the pet store to stock up on clearance holiday sweaters and toys; two of which he has already growled and ripped apart but I know this dog, he would rather chew off his own leg than to hurt anyone. I had taken a philanthropic hiatus because I injured my back and shoulder. Given the strength of some of the court case dogs coming out of their cages; I worried I would not be able to hold the leash and one of them would get into trouble. Gavin and I are also one step away from him being able to join events as an <a href="http://www.safehumanechicago.org/get-involved/ambassador-dogs">Ambassador Dog</a>. So, I ask of you, if you have enjoyed these posts at all and want to give back in any way, <a href="http://www.safehumanechicago.org/">Safe Humane</a> is a great place to do so. <br />
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Thank you again for sharing our voyage. This certainly will not be the last time you hear about my Finn or my Gavin. I leave you with this beautiful quote from the book <a href="https://affiliate-program.amazon.com/gp/associates/network/build-links/individual/get-html.html?ie=UTF8&asin=0380773384&marketplace=amazon&quicklinks=1&subflow=sp_">Healing After Loss: Daily Meditations for Working Through Grief.</a> Martha Whitmore Hickman's words have helped me tremendously every single day and I will continue to reach for it when I feel sad and miss my Finn:<br />
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"May this New Year be for me a time for music. And if I am able- later, if not now-may I hear in my heart the voice of my loved one lifted with my voice, to praise life, to hope for life, to join others on this circling globe in an "Alleluia", for the experiences we have shared and share even now, and for the ways beyond time and death in which we are bound to one another in gratitude and love."<br />
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Happy Birthday, my Lug, my soulmate, my angel. I hope you are swimming and chasing tennis balls today and forever, as you continue to watch over us.<br />
<br />Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-67167748041426553212014-01-08T04:58:00.000-08:002014-01-08T05:00:59.238-08:00Today, and Always<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B1bzQY8oybI/UsteBIKa2lI/AAAAAAAABf4/KDzCzcq88TM/s1600/photo+(19).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B1bzQY8oybI/UsteBIKa2lI/AAAAAAAABf4/KDzCzcq88TM/s1600/photo+(19).JPG" height="320" width="207" /></a>Today, I will light a candle.<br />
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One year ago, you looked up at me at me and for the first time, I saw suffering in your eyes.<br />
One year ago, I doubted my decision.<br />
One year ago, you wagged and wiggled when Sheila came for us.<br />
One year ago, your insatiable spirit gave in to your frail body again.<br />
One year ago, I knew another day would have caused you misery.<br />
One year ago, I watched you twinkle your nose to the sunny sky.<br />
One year ago, you ate treats at the park, your first meal in days.<br />
One year ago, you happily wandered onto your bed and laid your face next to mine.<br />
One year ago, I tenderly kissed your nose and whispered "I'm going to miss you so much".<br />
One year ago, I gave you the greatest gift I ever gave you, freedom from pain.<br />
One year ago, I knew that if I had another 13 years with you, it still would not have been enough.<br />
One year ago, profound grief suffocated me when you closed your eyes for the last time.<br />
One year ago, an odd sense of calm also washed over me because I felt you peacefully drift away.<br />
One year ago, I was grateful that I had the courage to release you, for you.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IR7XOId-yqU/UsteUynv2TI/AAAAAAAABgA/Iw8QVfi1RO8/s1600/photo+(20).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IR7XOId-yqU/UsteUynv2TI/AAAAAAAABgA/Iw8QVfi1RO8/s1600/photo+(20).JPG" height="320" width="211" /></a>Today, I will open my front door and see your sleepy eyes that just awoke from a deep slumber because nothing would have stopped you from greeting me at the door.<br />
Today, I will place my hand on my heart when I look at the tree, our tree, right outside my window that still looks like a heart, despite the blustery wind.<br />
Today, I will smile when I look through all your bright-eyed, tongue-hanging-out-of-your-mouth, always happy pictures.<br />
Today, I still sometimes cry an ocean because I miss you so much.<br />
Today, I will give Gavin as much love as I can because I know I can only be sure of this moment.<br />
Today, your spirit is etched into my soul.<br />
Today, the gratitude I feel for the millions of happy memories I have of you and with you surrounds me with warmth.<br />
Today, I wonder if you had anything at all to do with the unbelievably sweet dog who is snuggled next to me.<br />
Today, I thank you for dedicating your life to me and years of mutual adoration.<br />
Today, and, forever, I will love you.<br />
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<br />Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-45560549289797937632014-01-04T09:46:00.003-08:002014-01-04T10:00:28.367-08:00Almost a Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I vowed to myself that I would focus my energy on January 21st; the day my insanely enthralling Lug was born. But, announcing my emotional intentions and gripping onto the belief that I have any control over my sensitivity to the one-year anniversary of Finn's last day with me; on his robot bed at Gomper's Park, was foolish. As January 8th draws nearer, I think of how reciting funny stories of my Lug's zany puppy antics; recalling the copious, profound moments Finn and I experienced together that shaped us, me; and sometimes, sharing my tears have soothed my tattered heart. The basic act of carving out a window of time, every week, to do absolutely nothing but think, write about and celebrate Finn's memory has helped me walk along my new path; exuding my Lug's happiness, strength and his bright torch, rather than plodding through mud. I know now that Finn's light may have not shone as bright had he hurdled his entire body onto a different human being almost 15 year ago and that Gavin was just as destined to be my wingman as my Lug.<br />
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Gavin's first Christmas home was distinctly dissimilar from Finn's grand holiday entrance. The week before Christmas; the pandemonium Gavin caused by trying to chase Elvis out of the house; creating ruckus not only to the neighbors who live below us, but to both dogs' spirit and my heart. Gavin finally relegated himself to the bathroom, Elvis sat, confused, by my feet and I felt the tumult as I thought back to my intention days prior. Providing a temporary home for a dog in need was supposed to be a good deed for Gavin too. Despite the upheaval in routine and the craziness prior to our departure; Gavin arrived at my mom's house, merry and wiggly. Within minutes of unpacking my bags, Lil' Big Head was lying on the couch, with is belly in the air and his giant head resting on my mom's lap while she and I talked. I thought, perhaps, Elvis would weave into our lives but the innate comfort between Gavin and I was already there, maybe I needed to witness a moment of chaos to appreciate the strong ties between us.<br />
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I love telling the tale of Finn's first Christmas, because it truly reminds me of a scene from a Chevy Chase movie. When I opened the door to my childhood home; my Lug's toenails clamored against the foyer floor at the sight of our cat, Apple. Our cat dashed up the stairs and tried to escape the big goober chasing him by running up the Christmas tree. Finn was so focused on his pursuit that he followed Apple and was midway up the tree before I could even catch up to them. Wrapping paper went flying all over the floor, crushed presents sat at our feet and sparkly ornaments were whizzing past my head as the tree started wobbling back and forth. My brother Matt was faster than I was and was able to catch the tree as it fell into the fish tank before I had dead fish on my conscious and gallons of water to soak up from the rug. Matt literally had steam coming out of his ears. I sent Finn to the backyard for a minute to give my brother time to cool off and hopefully encourage my Lug to chase our dog Goldie, not the cat. Three months a city dog; Finn grew bored of the suburban fenced arena within seconds and decided it was more fun to climb the ladder of our above-ground pool and go swimming, in December. My Lug was paddling with oblivious delight to the fact that the winter liner could have easily wrapped around his big body and hurt him. Thankfully I was watching from the window and my dad begrudgingly rescued him. I dried Finn off, and he was then off to tackle my sister, giving her big, wet, slobbery kisses; carefree and clueless to the chaos he caused.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AZKSeGjac4E/UsdMhZVImqI/AAAAAAAABfk/q7tXdQ9m030/s1600/photo+(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AZKSeGjac4E/UsdMhZVImqI/AAAAAAAABfk/q7tXdQ9m030/s320/photo+(15).JPG" width="320" /></a>My dad invited Lil' Big Head to join our annual gathering at his bar and my mom's side of the family welcomed him to the party house on Christmas Eve. Gavin loves smacking everyone with his tail, wiggling for kisses and snuggles then darting off after his ball or me to show off some of his tricks. My cousin, once removed, Hayden was so excited to watch Gavin "wait" then "get it" with his squeaky toy over and over and over again. There's something about Lil' Big Head, he draws people to him. Every time I would look up, my cousin Margie and her husband were next to us and rubbing Gavin's shoulders. And, Taylor, my stepmother's granddaughter was trailing Lil' Big Head no matter whether he was tearing up cardboard boxes, pouncing on his tennis ball with the precision of a cat, waiting patiently by her mom's side for a morsel of meat to drop onto the floor or placing his paws on the pool table for a better shot at the game he was dying to play.<br />
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We were barely home for a full day before Lil' Big Head and I headed to the airport then Lake Geneva for my birthday and New Year's celebrations. The weather was so frigid but I was overcome with immense gratefulness for my friends who took time off of work, away from their babies (four-legged and two) and traveled across the country to chill out in a rental home with my dog and I. My friend Pam compiled years of photos into a video and as I sat on the couch in between Gavin and four of the most beautiful people I know; I fought the tears as I watched pictures, so many pictures, of Finn and I flash before my eyes. I know if I dropped the floodgates; I would have been surrounded by hugs, warmth and a deeply emotional dog, content to be accompany me wherever I go. But when Matt gave me a framed photo of Finn and Gavin for Christmas and I started crying; the sadness that washed over his face hurt my soul. I tried to tell my brother that I was crying because I was stirred by the warm sentiment behind his gift but I know Matt and in that instant, he thought he was the reason for my rain.<br />
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I will continue to let my tears wash over me when I miss Finn because there is a freshness after the storm that allows me to more deeply and freely appreciate Gavin, Lil' Big Head, the awesome sidekick that he is for the dog he is, not Finn, not Elvis. And, now that Gavin and I are back home and we are in a place in our relationship where the lines are blurred as to who is speaking and who is listening; my courage and sunshine balance my rainy, weak moments. My love for Finn is a living force that sustains me. Telling tales of my Lug and sharing the joys of learning about and loving Lil' Big Head has been such a healing process for me. I would like to open the Lug of My Life up to you and your stories about love and loss, two and four-legged, so that it may help you the way it has helped me. My last official post will be on Finn's birthday, January 21st, and it will certainly not be the last time I write about Finn or Gavin but I believe it is time for me honor Finn's memory by doing what I love most, helping others.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-53984594876866982872013-12-28T13:10:00.002-08:002013-12-28T13:40:50.281-08:00Happy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Almost two years ago; I made a huge change to my business, one that I knew was right for me but the responses I received were less than enthusiastic. In a world of bigger, bigger, BIGGER; I chose to scale back my business so I could do what I loved again, spend time training dogs and working with people. I had a few moments of terror that I questioned whether or not I could make my living without being attached to a large facility and during every panic, freak-out, cold-sweat flash; I asked to universe for Finn to be healthy and for me to be happy, over and over again.<br />
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That winter, Finn was beyond happy, all the time. We still went for long walks, without any concern of time or reserving energy for the stairs. And, when the sun hit the snow just right and I knew I was exactly where I wanted to be; I was able to simply breathe in the fresh air and be thankful for the big, sweet Lug standing next to me, enjoying every step we took together.<br />
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It is fairly easy to smile when the sky is crystal blue and "healthy" really means all our parts are working together seamlessly and relatively pain-free. Gavin and I went home to Columbus this week for Christmas. The time always seems to soar past me like a bald eagle; and attempts to see my grandmother or sister, just one more time, before I drive to back Chicago often fail. As I watched my mother take care of my step dad, who she has continuously told me over the phone is doing fine; I ached for both of them because how can one be happy when the one we love has faded? Or when we constantly feel the need to apologize for being a perceived burden to our loved ones?<br />
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I remember crying in my car every single time I turned on the ignition because I was mourning Finn long before he was actually gone. And, I knew if I could allow myself that time to be sad, I could appreciate our time together even more. But, I refused to look at pictures of him when he was young and I still have not brought myself to do so. I did not want to feel sorry for myself for missing any moments of youth that we shared or to not see him, love my Lug, for exactly who he grew to be. But, sadness when someone is still here is much harder to talk about than once they are gone.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BLGu8j7JuMY/Ur84ThblOmI/AAAAAAAABfE/Hl7YYCTBzZM/s1600/photo+(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BLGu8j7JuMY/Ur84ThblOmI/AAAAAAAABfE/Hl7YYCTBzZM/s320/photo+(14).JPG" width="296" /></a>I have heard so many people say to both my mom and Jim how lucky they are or it could have been so much worse and "let me know if you need anything". I am mystified how she is supposed to respond. Her husband has been through two very intense brain surgeries and is being subjected to chemotherapy, radiation, physical therapy and a life that is very difficult, for both of them. I wonder what their happiness looks like now. They still laugh together and share moments that gives me hope that I will find a human partner who I can share a love so deep. But, so much of who they both were was stripped from them, without warning.<br />
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Is it possible to be happy when worry is far more than trivial stresses? I know I did a terrible job of finding my own peace and light last Christmas. My happiness was contingent on whether or not Finn was having a good health day and the strength of the flicker in his tawny eyes that seemed to fade the same way Jim's brightness has also dimmed. I can see Jim misses the vivacious, always willing-to-help, jokester that he has unceasingly been his entire life. Why is it so difficult to talk about loss that is not absolute? To me, it seems like the cultural norm to is chant gratitude for life, any life, even if that life is harder and painful. Please pray for Jim and my mom, they need all the love they can get right now. Gavin did his best to share his love and was so unbelievably sweet as Lil' Big Head gently placed his paws on the side of the bed, not directly on Jim, for my stepdad to tell him to "be a good boy" for his mom. Gavin whacked me with his tail every time they had a moment.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-77809535327702280552013-12-21T14:32:00.000-08:002013-12-21T14:48:08.004-08:00Graceland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It is no secret that I could become smitten with just about any dog. For years, I wanted a second dog in the house for Finn but my landlord did not allow it. The fall of 2010, months after I moved into my condo, a friend sent me a photo of a gorgeous gray-faced gal named Calillou. I immediately set up a meeting with the dog I could only say her name while singing the last syllable in a high-pitched, off key tune. I sat in the grass with the something or other mixed breed dog on a warm, sunny day and she smiled through broken teeth and squirmed towards me on the emerald green grass. Calillou so quickly found the window to my heart that salty tears rolled down my cheeks; and I watched her throw herself on her back when another dog barked at her. It would only be a perfect marriage if she allowed Finn to remain King of the Castle as easily as the wind blows. I went to sleep that night with my sacked-out Lug stretched across the foot of my bed and visions of a senior dog love dancing in my head.<br />
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My friend Sheila went with me to make the introduction because the shelter requires any potential adopter to sign in before bringing their own dog inside. There was no way I was leaving Finn alone in that parking lot for even a second. I opened the door to lift my Lug begrudgingly, out of my SUV; he had not been allowed to jump on his own for years, to prevent any further damage to his old boy knees. Usually, Finn looked around brightly, eager to discover what fun I had planned for us ANYWHERE we arrived; even at the vet's office where he was always showered with treats and returned the favor by lavishing anyone who was near with blubbery smooches. But, my Lug stopped, he was so tentative and his smile faded while he eerily looked around. I choked, ruminating all the animals who stood in that same parking lot; hesitant then left behind, confused and scared.<br />
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I knew Finn would tell me very quickly if Calillou was meant to be his gal pal; but despite any inkling that my Lug might be the one to get himself ruffled at the sight of a new dog; Calillou took one look at Finn and started snarling and lunging. My Lug turned to me, with a knowing look that said "can we go now?" And, we did.<br />
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This past week, Gavin and I have had a foster dog in the house named Elvis. The big, sweet goober arrived late Sunday evening and from the instant he walked in the door after a long ride from Missouri; I knew my Lil' Big Head and he were not a perfect match. Elvis would try to so hard play with Gavin and Lil' Big Head found the Lab's oafish ways extremely annoying as Humpfest 2013 ensued for two days. It was pathetic to watch Gavin try to grasp Elvis's back end and the 90-pound dog, just stood, tongue hanging out the side of his grinning mouth. The instant Gavin stopped, Elvis swatted him again, trying to initiate a game. And, when Elvis barrelled into Gavin, repeatedly, every single walk; Lil' Big Head took out his frustration on every tree he could scale and gnaw. We worked hard to only chase trees at Gompers Park but I let it go this week; Gavin needed a win.<br />
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As the week went on and I attempted to keep up with all the emails that came from having so many suitors for the adorable creature who I grew very fond of; Gavin grew despondent. My heart shattered as I watched Gavin retreat to the bathroom and curl up into the tightest ball. Some friends have said maybe Gavin was not ready to share me but for reasons I cannot explain; Gavin relaxed the most when Elvis clumsily laid on my lap, the best he could. My hunch is that Lil' Big Head knew Elvis would not try to lay on top of him if he was preoccupied by me, at least for a few seconds.<br />
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Wednesday night, Elvis was laying on the floor and I went to snuggle with Gavin in the bathroom as I held him close and whispered, "he's not staying little buddy, I promise". Gavin yelped and barked like I have never heard then snapped at the air. His eyes were blown apart when he realized how close he jerked towards my face; it was gut-wrenching. Gavin would rather chew his own leg off than hurt anyone. While I tended to Gavin, thinking his neck was injured and maybe Elvis clumsily jumped on him too hard, just trying to use Gavin as a trampoline. But, after a visit to the vet, it turns out my Lil' Big Head had an allergic reaction to a possible bug bite because his nose, a place I kiss ALL the time was swollen and sore.<br />
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Luckily, the next night, I spoke to a woman named Nicole that I just knew was the right fit for Big E. I sat in the back seat of my tiny car and lured Elvis over my lap with baby food as his giant, klunky paws soaked my lap, jacket, bag and back seat with muddy, rain water. We drove through Friday afternoon traffic and every time I uttered a word, the clumsy, adorable dog tried to jump into the front seat and onto my lap so I drove silently and occasionally glanced over my shoulder as Elvis caught a bit of sleep in the back seat. When I met Nicole, I could see in her eyes, what a kind person she was and I felt honored to be a part of helping Elvis find his way to her.<br />
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And, I while I will always hold a special spot in my heart for Elvis; I think I will be waiting until I am ready for a forever second dog before I open my door again. I promised Gavin he gets first pick too; I can love any dog as long as Lil' Big Head is happy. This morning, I took him to the school he likes to play fetch and wiggle for every person that walks by and I spotted a giant paw print in the snow that I can only guess is Elvis's; then we walked to the pet store and I let Lil' Big Head pick out two new toys. As soon as we come home from our holiday travels; Gavin will need to see his girlfriend Grace again. He has forgiven me and; as I write this, I have a big, snoring head in my lap again. I missed that.<br />
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<br />Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-34874268568675429512013-12-11T20:22:00.000-08:002013-12-15T14:56:08.970-08:00My Other Dog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For years, I have stood next to lovely people who have a bouncing puppy grabbing at their pant legs, tugging on shoestrings, then, squatting on the rug and peeing. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the pictures of a beautiful dog, the same breed and color but much older and clearly, very loved. I wait for the words "but, my other dog" because they are always uttered and never ill-intended. The rational side of the brain knows that every dog is different and even if we fall head over heels with a specific breed of dog; the personalities vary as greatly as the weather does hour to hour in Chicago. But, it takes considerable effort to look into the eyes of a newly hitched dog, and see only the amazing dog in front of us, no assumptions or paws to fill.<br />
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When I started the quest for a new dog; I was waffling on whether or not I would be able to look at another Lab's face and not feel hurt; not assume impossible attributes. The dogs I was looking at online had been through enough turmoil in their lives to walk into a home with unrealistic expectations. I spent a lot of time thinking about WHY I thought I was ready for a dog before I reached out to any rescue. For me, the role of caretaker fills me up in a way that nothing else seems to do. But, even though my heart was ready to love again; I would be lying if I said Gavin and I did not butt heads a time or two.<br />
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In the late hours of the night; I would throw Lil' Big Head's leash onto his collar and trot down the stairs. Gavin would stop and stare. I would wave for my little buddy to come along; head lower, stare. This went on for a couple weeks; I would sit on the stairs, wait to put Gavin's leash on when we hit the bottom of the steps, wave hot dogs, meatballs or baby food in his face and Lil' Big Head just refused to go outside for his last pee without an epic struggle. One night, I was mustering the energy to start our nightly routine and decided to threw another option to Gavin. I stood at the edge of the rug near the couch where Lil' Big Head was snoozing in the tightest ball he could possibly curl and said "outside or bed?" Gavin lifted his head, slid off the sofa and shuffled right into my bedroom. Finn adored being outside and peeing on every tree, leaf or pole he could lift his leg on; any time of the day and in any weather. And, though I thought I was looking at Gavin as his own dog; years of going outside for fun pees seemed standard to me but Gavin would much rather sleep.<br />
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A couple days after Gavin wobbled onto my lap and let me know his heart was mine if I wanted it and I, of course, was smitten too; a friend sent me a picture of a Chocolate Lab. I glanced at Camden, my stomach did somersaults and I had no control of my fingers as I sent an email and kept hitting refresh over and over again, waiting for a response. The volunteer who brought Gavin to meet me just gushed over how much Lil' Big Head went bonkers for other dogs. And, while I would likely highly advise anyone adopting a new dog to not also adopt a second dog at the same time; I thought if they loved each other, I could save two dogs!<br />
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When I walked up to the door to meet the big, brown boy; I could see through the glass a giant, barky dog who's nubbin for a tail was bobbing back and forth. Cam was happy to meet me and even more ecstatic to go for a walk, walk, walk while he stopped to snuffle leaves, just like my Finn. He was not eating much except for cheap, grocery store treats; despite all the efforts his awesome foster mom was making trying to get him to eat food higher quality than my own. Camden REALLY hated his ears being touched and; even though I was not supposed to fall again, I did.<br />
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As I rattled off to my mom through the speaker in the ceiling of my car that I was going to put post-it notes <br />
all over the house to remind myself to not rub Camden's ears; one of Finn's favorite spots. And, if he and Gavin were not a match made in heaven, I would not adopt Camden. I was very open with both rescues and delighted they both were willing to see if the two dogs would be a good fit. As I continued to ramble on faster and faster; I could hear my mom's thoughts by her silence. But, she knows that I need to figure things out for myself. And while, it may have seemed absolutely ludicrous to adopt both dogs at the same time; I was so turned around when I first met Finn that I did not even know I was lost but tending to my Lug's needs and getting to know him made me feel like I was home. Unfortunately, big, sweet Camden did not like my stairs at all and Gavin's energy was way too much for the awesome four-year old Lab. My mom later told me she was nervous that living with another Chocolate Lab so soon might prove harder than I imagined.<br />
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At the risk of sounding hokey, I believe things work out for a reason. I have kept in touch with the rescue and Camden ended up staying where he belongs, with his once-foster mom. And, starting this Sunday, we will have a foster dog in the house through the same rescue. Gavin is going to be ricocheting off the ceiling with excitement to have another puppy actually staying with us, not just visiting for an hour or two. I have to thank Buzzy, Skipper, Cinnamon and Mika for making me smile and helping me realize that I can look into the radiant face of a Lab with pure appreciation for those goofy grins.<br />
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And, while Gavin shares Finn's infatuation for sharing microwave popcorn, does a mean imitation of my Lug's "I got my bone shuffle", also likes to sit, stare, sit, stare, beg with his eyes whenever I am cutting up treats for my sessions and has recently started to bark when I try to take his picture, one of Finn's favorite comedy routines; I have to continually and attentively remind myself to listen as much as I can to Gavin. Lil' Big Head recently started the doorknob gaze when we come home. I always treasured the anticipation Finn had on his face as I fumbled to find my keys, my Lug adored coming home. Gavin is going to dig his digs even more when he realizes his new buddy will be staying for awhile.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-82129458488539838612013-12-05T06:24:00.000-08:002013-12-09T18:40:34.752-08:00Holding On & Letting Go<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wilbur blushed. "But I'm not terrific, Charlotte, I'm just about average for a pig".<br />
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"You're terrific as far as I'm concerned", replied Charlotte, sweetly, "and that's what counts. You're my best friend and I think you are sensational."-E.B. White<br />
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When I gawkily arrived at the dusty, dirt road and clumsily opened the greasy door handle of the chipped, cracked barn door; I wanted a dog, a buddy. I never intended to find my muse in the runt, outcast of the litter; a creature who would weave for me new paths, passions and a friendship that I will treasure far beyond my feeble days. Fortitude came so easily to my Lug and he reveled in being my rock, my inspiration. And, every time I looked into his devoted, merry eyes; I believed I was sensational too.<br />
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This time of year, I am usually as giddy as my nephew, Isaac, about upcoming holiday traditions. Every year growing up; I looked forward to the stories my grandmother would tell about how her mother had passed onto her the sparkly, teal and silver wind-chime I always searched for the perfect position on twinkly, tinseled limbs. I loved seeing what character my mom and aunt chose for each of my cousins; we all had a wooden, hand-painted ornament with our name inscribed at the bottom; my sister Beth was a cherub. How did they know she would turn into a woman with such a big heart? But, mending a heartache caused by bereavement is not a smooth, uphill ride. And, I remember, after losing my grandfather exactly 11 years ago today, we all tried to make Christmas festive and fun; to honor what we all knew my Papaw would have wished. However, it was formidable to lift each other's spirits and not be melancholy about the vibrant man that we were all missing.<br />
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While I am so looking forward to seeing Gavin gallop through wadded-up wrapping paper and wiggle-stretch-shimmy on the carpet next to my brother Matt; there's a lump in my throat. And, because the holidays bring such significance to love and magic, I can't NOT think of Finn. He exuded both. But, when Gavin is not in super sonic play mode, he needs me to lean on so now I have to find the moxie for both Lil' Big Head and I. And, oh, that Lil' Big Head sure brings his own ways of showing love to me everyday. This weekend, I took a nap on the couch for the first time in ages; though I was telling myself I was going to "rest my eyes", a favorite tale of my Papaw's. When I plopped my head onto the pillow, Gavin curled up in the crook of my knees, so endearing. And, when I woke up twenty minutes later to heavy breathing on my neck and his paw wrapped around my waist the first thing that popped into my mind was Jeanine Garofalo's line from Truth About Cats and Dogs, "you can love your pets, but don't LOOVVEE your pets". I laid there for awhile longer and just rubbed Gavin's shoulders, there was no need to disturb Lil' Big Head, he was so peaceful.<br />
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I thought I would have a hard time with another dog, any dog laying on Finn's beds; ripping apart my Lug's old toys or wearing his coat. But, it's just stuff. And, Gavin is my dude, he deserves to be spoiled and treasured for the dog that he is. Lil' Big Head looks so handsome with Finn's coat layered on top of his sweatshirt but he also resembles a burrito and it does not phase him that Finn's name is scribbled across the chest. The name tag is only present because I accidentally laid the coat on a candle the week after I bought it and burned a hole in a coat that cost more than my own. Sometimes, I still have to remind myself when tears roll down my cheeks as I am cleaning up Gavin's toys, or what's left of them and I stop myself before tossing a bone onto the big orthopedic dog bed that Finn's not there.<br />
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When I see Finn in my dreams, his body is young but he still has bushy grey eyebrows as they made him<br />
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look more dashing and animated; fitting for my Lug. And, while I talk now of my sadness; it still creeps in at times but it rolls along like a wave now rather than a sucker punch to the chest. The Finn who paddles through my heart stops and sits next to my Papaw by a stream. My Papaw looks over at me with the orneriest of grins and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. They reminded me so much of each other, raucous sense of humor but, if I needed my Papaw, he was my rock too. Now, it is my turn to be Gavin's anchor; devote my love and keep that barn door open because nothing would make him happier than another dog in the house.<br />
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Wilbur's heart brimmed with happiness....."Welcome to the barn cellar. You have chosen a hallowed doorway from which to string your webs. I think it is only fair to tell you that I was devoted to your mother...I shall always treasure her memory. To you, her daughters, I pledge my friendship, forever and ever."<br />
"I pledge mine." said Joy<br />
"I do, too," said Aranea<br />
"And so do I," said Nellie<br />
It was a happy day for Wilbur. And many, more happy, tranquil days followed.<br />
-<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0064400557/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0064400557&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">E.B. White </a><br />
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<br />Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-25695719802620276132013-11-28T08:26:00.000-08:002013-11-28T08:26:07.959-08:00Thanks and Giving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last year at this time, I was nestled in between my nephew and the arm of my mom's sofa. Finn was sound asleep at my feet next to the twinkling Christmas tree. Gavin was named Cappucino and was likely spooning his brother, in a cage, on a cold, concrete floor. Isaac and I were drawing a picture together; he would outline a silhouette then I would scribble a jewel tone into an ornament. As the picture took shape, I noticed the scene looked just like the first Christmas Finn and I visited Ohio. The previous day, my brother Matt and I had been reminiscing and laughing about my Lug's Clark Griswold-like entrance to my childhood home. Isaac giggled when he told me he heard the whole story and held his hand over his mouth while he snickered about how naughty Finn was as a puppy.<br />
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This year, I am grateful for so many things, including my marvelous luck to have saved a diamond of a dog from a potentially terrible fate and challenges that allow me to grow and test my strength. This week has been a bit of a doozie in our house; Gavin is none the wiser because he's been living it up at daycare while I frantically called electricians, turned off circuit breakers and notified my neighbors that we had some electrical issues that caused my dryer and dishwasher to stop working and the coffee maker to catch on fire. Lil' Big Head and I are safe now, and the burden of replacing two not-so-cheap appliances seems miniscule when I think of the alternate story lines that could have unfolded.<br />
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So, today, I offer my thanks to my amazing mom who offered her help and support while I was panicking and to my family of friends in Chicago that I will be sharing my Thanksgiving meal this evening. But, I am also more aware than I was a week ago that I can never, ever be too grateful for my health, safety and the warmth of a snoring puppy.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-65947217425807738062013-11-21T10:24:00.001-08:002013-11-22T07:55:48.965-08:00The Woman in the Mirror<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and then make a change." Michael Jackson<br />
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Thankfully, the depraved demon spirit that possessed Lil' Big Head for the past couple of weeks has been cast out. Even when Gavin is absurdly disobedient and elfin; it's because he wants so badly to play, all the time. Hapless Lil' Big Head convulses, trying with all his puppy self control, to not nose dive onto the rug and sink a tooth into one of the sisal knots. And, who am I to squash his friskiness? I regularly fight to control my laughter; and am constantly re-evaluating how to teach Lil' Big Head and other dogs the house rules without taking away their personality or vigor.<br />
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Every time I turn up the temperature on my thermostat, Gavin's walks become shorter and his shivering becomes more prominent the instant we step outside. Becoming a cold weather wimp has been a seamless transition for me and I am sure I can concoct fun ways to keep Gavin entertained this winter. But, I thought I should find a new form of exercise so I do not bust out of my pants before eating season even begins. My friend Nora suggested online workouts through <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/FitnessBlender?feature=g-high-rec">Fitness Blender</a> and I found my salvation. Gavin is perplexed by all my hopping and lunging around the house; much to his confusion, without squeaky balls. One morning I was perusing through the hundreds of FREE workout videos and I stumbled upon viewer comments and man, they were downright mean. I know this may sound a little Pollyanna of me, but if I dislike the video, I stop watching it and move on with my life. I could not understand why so many folks slandered this couple who have spent their money, time and expertise to help others, for FREE. <br />
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Later that night, I saw the same anonymous cruelty on Facebook. A woman's dog had been shot twice with arrows and it was so sad to see her crying and holding onto her injured boy. I started thumbing through the photos to make sure the dog was okay and to see if the woman could afford the surgeries her baby had to endure. Again, among dozens of comments that seemed to be directed towards a guy who said he did not like dogs, NOT ONE expressed interest in the dog's current health status or how the woman was doing. This is why I unplug to recharge my batteries.<br />
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A few years ago, I was in need of a break from all the inner chaos that can develop from battling traffic throughout the day and trying to keep up with emails. So, Finn and I went to Asheville, North Carolina to go hiking for a week. My Lug was no longer a young stallion so my plan was to traverse the mountain for two hours at a time then take Finn back to our cabin and rest. It turns out that I was the one who needed the longest naps as Finn bobbed and tapped from the door to my bed not long after lunch, holding his <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B005E6QPFE/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B005E6QPFE&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">manly pink, mint-scented, rubber ball</a>.<br />
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At the time, it was his security blanket; my Lug carried that ball with him everywhere he went. Finn could walk for hours while chomping and slobbering, rarely skipping a beat while he explored the countryside with me. One afternoon, I stopped to take a photo and Finn looked down the side of the mountain, the ball must have slipped out of his mouth as it rolled down wet leaves and stopped about six feet below us. Not much ever troubled Finn, but losing his ball was devastating. Every time we hiked after that, my Lug stopped and stood, crestfallen; and I had to call him away to follow me. I could have replaced forlorn Finn's prized toy but as we both sucked in as much fresh air as possible; I started thinking about what kind of damage that ball could do to the environment. What if an animal ate the toy and choked? What if the foreign matter had an adverse effect on the vegetation and killed indigenous plants on that side of the mountain? I decided Finn and I needed to recover his ball.<br />
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When we went back to the the cabin to rest, I thought I could create a makeshift pulley out of two leashes so I went to the store, tested out my new contraption on my Lug and we hit the road to recover his ball. I wrapped my left leg around a tree and held onto one leash wrapped around Finn's chest with my left hand, and gripped the other loop securing his tummy with my right fist as his eyes lit up. My Lug was so excited to retrieve his toy and shimmied down the mountain while I held on to make sure he did not slide on the wet leaves or get his paw caught in a hidden hole. Finn was elated and I waited to share this adventure with my mother AFTER we were back home safe and sound.<br />
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I often think about how Finn and I were such a team, always up for an adventure and a challenge; and I will never know if anything bad would have occurred by us leaving the ball on the mountain. But, I can look at myself in the mirror and know I did my best to prevent a deer from ingesting a ball that could cause suffering and injury.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NjIYP31XFs8/Uo4tujpzwJI/AAAAAAAABbU/Vx91WPCsBok/s1600/photo+(6).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NjIYP31XFs8/Uo4tujpzwJI/AAAAAAAABbU/Vx91WPCsBok/s320/photo+(6).JPG" width="320" /></a>The other night I was walking into the drugstore and I was in a hurry but I saw an elderly man, who was<br />
severely hunched over, limping and prodding through the parking lot with his walker. My eyes welled up because the hatred I had recently read was heavy on in my mind. The first thing that ran through my head was a wish that no one has or will ever taunt this gentleman for being frail and slow. Another night, I might have quickly glanced up from an email as I tried to respectfully pass him but I walked behind him, very aware of our shared presence. When the man's thin hand shook as he reached for a basket; I asked if he needed any help but by watching his body language, he either did not hear me or he did not want my help. And, if I learned anything at all from my independent Papaw or my freethinking Finn; both who would rather topple over than to let their dignity slip away, I try not to interfere without being given permission. I hoped I would see him again as I slowly walked through the aisles, looking for my staple items. The elderly man walked towards me and I smiled and said hello and he repeated it back to me. That was it, the end of my interaction with a stranger who I secretly sent peace and light.<br />
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I am humble enough to know that my actions have a minuscule impact on the world. But when I crawl into bed tonight, I hope the person who just peered back at me from my bathroom mirror chose to make eye contact and either pull a dollar out of my wallet for the man standing at the expressway exit or at least tell him I'm sorry for not having any cash. Or, instead of typing "people suck" when I read about another dog who was treated terribly by a human, that I make a small donation to an <a href="http://www.ffbf-columbus.org/">organization that supports people who love their pets but can't afford the care they would like to provide</a> or I simply wave a "thank you" hand to someone who allows me to merge into traffic.<br />
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In keeping the Michael Jackson theme, Gavin and I are working on a new trick, "Moonwalk" which was inspired by a lovely client's daughter. I have not quite mastered holding a video camera and training but it "feels real good" to spread the creativity of a child. And, Gavin recently passed the exam for us to start volunteering with <a href="http://www.safehumanechicago.org/">Safe Humane's Ambassador program</a>, Lil' Big Head is ready to spread love with the world.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-90859796763893609842013-11-14T07:34:00.000-08:002013-12-07T20:46:50.848-08:00IT'S Back!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/08/el-diablo.html">El Diablo</a>, Booger, Turd Devil, Dirtbag and a nickname I stole from one of my clients, Punk. The label changes, but the gremlin "BLEH! BLEH! BLUP! BLEH BLEH BLEH!" and charging so fast from one side of the room to the other his feet slip around on the hardwood floor like Gavin is both possessed and on fire has been a daily occurrence. This has been Lil Big Head's awesome response to the command <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/your-dog-really-knows-sit/">"sit" </a>and usually includes him batting me with his paw, nipping the air then laying down staring at me with his "how bout no?" look on his face.<br />
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Without fail, the instant I turn off my electric toothbrush; I hear rapid pitter patter into my bedroom. Gavin knows that unless I tell him "you are going to see your friends today" that it means he has enjoy a peanut butter <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0002AR0II/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B0002AR0II&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">stuffed toy</a> in his crate for a bit. Cue the violins for poor Lil' Big Head. And, everyday, I find him laying with his frog legs extended towards the door, facing away from me and head ducked as low as he can possibly make it while he looks eerily over his shoulder. Lil' Big Head thinks I can't see him. But, when I catch a glimpse of his giant peepers in the mirror, he tries to look again doing his best to be invisible and hoping that just this once I will let him stay on the bed. I tell him a second time "go to your house" and Gavin slithers front paws first and drags his back end behind him. I am certain that rubbing his junk on my blanket is punctuation for his message. Lil' Big Head always shuffles through the living room, past the office door and into his house where he sighs then begrudgingly eats his <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0002AQPAM/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B0002AQPAM&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">Kong</a>.<br />
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I actually find Gavin's daily attempts to stay snuggled in my room adorable and if the goober did not fly past his<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0002AQPAM/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B0002AQPAM&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20"> antler</a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B007R1BN56/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B007R1BN56&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">dogwood stick</a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004A7X21I/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B004A7X21I&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">dumb bell </a>and bone to eat my blankets; I would let him sleep wherever he darn well chose to when I was not home. But Lil' Big Head has been an absolute terror this past week and I am glad Finn helped me learn over the years to laugh off some of his embarrassing mischief.<br />
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The Finn I remember had a warm glowing halo above his head and always gazed at me with a lifetime of love in his eyes. But, memories can be very selective and when I watch Gavin knock over a 4-year old child with his wiggle butt; I remember getting schooled by <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/learning-patience-from-dogs/">my brother Matt </a>when he returned to the living room to find puppy Finn laying on the couch, with bread crumbs hanging off his lips and ketchup and mustard smothered all over his big ol' snout. My ungraceful Lug managed to scale the entertainment center with such stealth, the plate was in the exact spot Matt had left it and every knick-knack on the shelves were in their proper position.<br />
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Finn was elated when he was a good boy and he was just as haughty and happy when someone furrowed their brow at him. Gavin on the other hand, has mastered the guilty look. The evening that Lil' Big butt-checked a little boy; he kept turning back to me for treats (which is a new and super cool development) but he got so excited that he truly lost control of his back end. And, as the kid kept shaking his finger at me saying, "You should teach your dog to lay down" over and over again; Gavin slunk behind me with his tender "I'm sorry" face. The tiny human was so salty; I felt obligated to prove to him that Gavin is pretty dang good flopping onto his belly so I told Lil' Big Head to "settle". Irony is not lost on me.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ExYy6p--5kE/UoTsDVaBYcI/AAAAAAAABa4/8FnX0GEkxlo/s1600/Diablointhehouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ExYy6p--5kE/UoTsDVaBYcI/AAAAAAAABa4/8FnX0GEkxlo/s320/Diablointhehouse.jpg" width="240" /></a>What I have grown to understand and perhaps it is age, experience or just surviving what I thought I might <br />
not, <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-eulogy.html">Finn's loss</a>; is that I care less about proving myself to the world than I did when Finn and I were in the same stage of our relationship. My Lug never barked AT me, except when I was unbelievably stressed out. When Finn was a pup; I gave him a bone every time he barked so my mean, upstairs landlady would not yell at us. Once we started training, I realized what a whoopsy that was and when I stopped being so keyed up about every little thing; I realized Finn was telling me to settle down, I was stressing HIM out. The first time I called out "meatballs" and Finn kept wandering through the park, sniffing grass; I knew he was losing his hearing and Finn had to be on leash for the rest of our walks. Young me might have worried who saw my dog not listen and be compelled to explain it away every time I saw someone who knew he had a stellar recall. But, my image became less important than keeping my Lug safe and<a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/04/great-expectations.html"> treasuring our strolls </a>and his <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-comfort-of-home.html">vibrant spirit.</a><br />
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On Saturday afternoon, Gavin was into EVERYTHING. Every single time I turned my back, Lil' Big Head was racing through house and digging paper towel rolls from the recycling bin. And when I let him back out of his crate, he squawked and gnarred then threw himself onto my bed where he thrashed and again, tried to maul the same blanket he wraps himself up in on chilly days. I was more excited than usual for his play date with Grace and Bailey. Unfortunately, El Diablo grew bored of stampeding past Kate and I with his girlfriend; and stealing Grace's stick. Gavin decided that he could have the most fun by hump, hump, humping Grace. I would pull him off and as I held him in a settle position, he kept thrusting the air with pure crazy in his eyes then race right back to mount Grace. Head or tail, Gavin did not care. It was exhausting to keep grabbing him and Gavin took great pride in making <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/02/ode-to-camp-kate.html">Kate</a> laugh every time he <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/08/my-winky-hurts.html">shoved his winky</a> onto poor Grace's head while Bailey proceeded to jump on her back end. Sweet Grace just stood there and looking right and left, waiting for us to save her. Fortunately, when I brought my terrible puppy home he slept like a baby but was back at his punky ways again the next morning, bouncing from dog bed to couch and shoving his butt into the air while he growled and rolled around like a cockroach. Thanks goodness I had a long day and was already planning on him going to daycare. Now, if you will excuse me, IT is sleeping and I'd like to savor the moment.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-60718705930130767712013-11-06T13:02:00.002-08:002013-11-06T13:21:30.764-08:00Tribute to My Boys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My dearest Finn,<br />
<br />
I did not sit down for three years. And, I watched you treat children as human bowling pins while you had the time of your life barreling over squeals and giggles. Because of you, I learned how to be patient and listen; and sometimes behavior is not "good" or "bad" but a message, a channel to open my eyes. You inspired me to find the person I was meant to be. I thank you, my Lug, my everything for helping me see that if I gave a little, what I would receive in return was so much more than I could ever have imagined, even in my most beautiful dreams. And, your dog kisses had magical powers to mend my broken heart, many times.<br />
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You made me laugh and approach the world with a lighter step when all I wanted to do was dig my heels in the ground and fight for what I thought was right. When you refused to let age and crappy genes deter you from being the brave soul, independent spirit and happy-go-lucky dog you always were; my compassion blossomed deeper than I thought possible. You taught me that happiness is not something to seek outside myself but it is always in my heart; I just had to be quiet long enough to experience it.<br />
<br />
Your insatiable appetite for life gave me the strength to get up when I fell down. No care, worry or stress in the world seemed as troublesome after a long walk with you. And, I now understand that if I stopped trying so hard to figure out the right time; all I had to do was look into your eyes, the truth was in front of me all along. Most of all, the love I will always feel when I see you standing in front of me, looking up with pure adoration; is ever present, and it is still with me everyday; even if I can't rub your silky, floppy ears. My faith has been restored in magic and blessings as I strive to more closely connect with my spiritual side and trust that there is so much beauty my human heart can not understand, yet.<br />
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To my sweet pea Gavin,<br />
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I am learning that staying inside while snuggling on the couch together when it's wet and dreary outside is a <br />
lovely way to to spend an afternoon; and your snore-warble-hum is a very tranquil lullaby. I watch you wiggle and jiggle with even more enthusiasm than normal whenever a large man with a hood or a pregnant woman pass us on the street; I know that you loved someone else and were loved once too. We are both figuring out that the world is not that scary when standing next to a friend who opens their arms for a warm hug.<br />
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I do not dare think of a day when you will not be with me because the thousands of joyful moments I know you will inevitably bring to my life squashed any consideration I gave to placing a padlock around my heart. I can give you an amazing life with as much fun as your heart desires and deserves while you become a part of; not necessarily my whole world. My relationship with you and the awesome dog that you are are quite different from my angel Lug. But, you and I know how many times a day I whisper "I love you" and you repeat it back with your deep, soulful eyes. I watch you and am inspired as you leap into the air, willing to give everyone your love. Sometimes you fall but you always bounce right back up, so excited and ready to again give your affection. I can see we will learn a lot from each other, darling Lil' Big Head.<br />
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<br />Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-44381100281839886422013-10-30T13:49:00.000-07:002013-11-06T13:18:40.087-08:00Paul's Passing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It was 2003, and like so many other grown-up firsts in my life; Finn was my trusty companion, happy to accompany me into a new apartment, just the two of us, finally. Technically, my Lug was a roommate but keeping him company was never work. And, he didn't complain about how grimy I was from from helping hoist boxes into our big kid pad. We both bounded out the door, eager to explore our new neighborhood when I spotted a petite man leaning against the fence, smoking a cigarette. His saucy smile took up most of his face as he said, "Grrrrrrlllllll, are you my new neighbor?" With a little wiggle of his shoulders and a whole lot of sass; I learned his name was Paul, he had a Pit Bull named Harper and we were going to get along just fine as he crouched down, squealed Finn's name repeatedly and let my Lug smooch him forehead to chin.<br />
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Because of Paul, and our other neighbor Brett, that beat-up, crappy apartment became my home for seven years and the man who stood standing in his white tank top and faded blue jean uniform will always be on my short list of amazing people who have brought nothing but joy to my life. Being the nice neighbor that he was, Paul agreed that before he came into the yard with Harper, he would yell out "HELLO!" and I would do the same. Finn's unbelievable uneasiness around other dogs was heightened at that time and I didn't want to put my Lug or Harper in a stressful situation. But, as time went on, Paul and I decided that we were both willing to put in the work to make sure our boys were content around each other so we could freely come and go in the yard. Harper was my first <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/09/twinkle-twinkle-little-pit.html">Pit Bull</a> love, he was and still is one of the easiest dogs to get along with. He and Finn spent years hanging out together, taking turns lifting their legs on the same spot, over and over again.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PTTePeswg1c/UnFvXvyF-eI/AAAAAAAABY8/3nCZhD_Q60M/s1600/photo+(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PTTePeswg1c/UnFvXvyF-eI/AAAAAAAABY8/3nCZhD_Q60M/s320/photo+(14).JPG" width="240" /></a>Paul used to make dinner every Sunday night for everyone in the building. He absolutely thrived on making<br />
people happy and my Lug's nose used to twinkle with delight every time I came home from taco night, the smell of frying beef never swirled in my kitchen. I used to tease Paul when he ordered tater tots at lunch or when I opened his cabinets to find eight types of marshmallow filled cereals. But I was always a teensy bit jealous he could eat like a teenager and still have a waistline closer to Scarlett O'Hara's than mine. Paul gave me the security and feeling of family that I missed so much when I moved to Chicago; I knew I could call him any hour of the day and did so many times. Paul would show up at the door with a toolbox in hand or a pair of rubber gloves and a package of frankfurters when I had to take my Lug's temperature in a place I never wanted to go, twice, post-surgery. Paul was honest, when I needed to hear the truth and managed to be there for so many people in this world. He was always telling me stories of yet another friend sleeping on his couch or a new foster dog because someone, anyone uttered the word "help". When Finn had a vestibular attack a few years ago, Paul was at my house 20 minutes after I called him to help me make sure my dizzy Lug could get up and down the stairs upon our return from the emergency room.<br />
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I hope I was there for Paul as much as he was there for me. A couple years ago, Paul and I were living much further apart; I was dating a guy I really liked and Paul was dating a guy who really liked him. Both our businesses were growing. He cancelled lunch plans one week then I cancelled coffee the next week.Then a year went by and another.<br />
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I had thought about calling Paul a hundred times when I passed through his neighborhood but became sidetracked when my phone rang. I kept meaning to tell him that I wrote about <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-other-side.html">he and Harper</a>; mostly as an excuse to say hi and see how they both were doing. Oh, I just know Paul would have loved Lil' Big Head. Now I never can talk to my dear friend, who I lost touch with, because he passed away last week. Shocked, shaken and regretful, I started looking through his Facebook page and learned that Paul went into the hospital the same day Finn passed away. All of this I keep telling myself as I try to find peace in my heart and grasp never being able to see Paul smile, hear his crazy stories or hug my kind, generous, funny, beautiful friend again.<br />
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Paul, if you are up there, please know how sorry I am that I didn't know you were sick and that I was not there for you. There will always be a very special place in my heart for you and your friendship. I am so terribly sorry that we lost touch. I am so fortunate to have shared your light and your love for as many years as I did and I truly hope you rest in peace. Finn and Bentley, please show him the ropes.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-74332494084897657002013-10-24T07:41:00.003-07:002013-10-30T12:29:56.069-07:00Disheveled Duos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Lil' Big Head absolutely loves our agility class. We are a team, tackling obstacles together. I don't care much for competition, which is why I assume I have never excelled in sports. But I love the way <a href="http://hawkcityk9.com/">Stacey and Janice </a>make the experience about each duo and what the dog CAN do; it makes me so happy to see Lil' Big Head's giant smile when he charges out of the tunnel, he always seems so proud of himself. There is never pressure to perform at a certain level and Gavin has been a stellar study, but more importantly the class is strengthening our bond.<br />
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Before class, my mushy little monkey dog was shaking so much from the cold; I was grateful that I taught him to have one favorite spot for business trips. Lil' Big Head has no fur. He wanted to get back inside; under a warm blanket, pronto. I bundled Gavin in one of my jackets for the drive because I could not recall where I had stored the hipster hoodie I bought for him when I was in Oregon over Memorial Day weekend. Lil' Big Head ran through the drills like we had been teammates for years, sometimes it's hard to believe he has only been with me for seven months because he seems so content and cheerful to be by my side.<br />
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We were practicing the dog walk and Gavin began running too fast and fell off onto the floor. Unlucky little guy tumbled right onto the spot where a metal gate separate the space between class and daycare. For the first time, I heard Lil' Big Head yelp. And, Gavin sat there, next to the equipment, looking up at me with his big, sad doe eyes. I ran over to comfort him and he leaned into me while I stroked his chest. We all wanted to see if he was ok, so I stepped away from him a tiny bit to see if he would stand and put weight on his leg; Gavin limped as he tried to walk. Luckily, Lil' Big Head shook it off and was moving just fine within a couple of seconds.<br />
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The last time I heard my Lug make that godawful sound that tore my soul up inside was the summer of 2011. Finn had a lump on his belly that I lovingly called his nubbin'. My Lug could have been covered head to toe in skin tags, lumps and bumps; I did not care as long as I knew he was not hurting nor were they a sign of something worse. But, because the benign mass was hanging off the lowest point of my Lug's barrel chest and it was growing so fast, one of my favorite veterinarians advised me to have it removed. I hated subjecting my senior dog to anesthesia but we had been carefully monitoring Finn's nubbin; and we knew it would soon become troublesome for him to walk. And, the thought of waiting another year; doing the surgery on an even older Finn helped me decide to move forward at her suggestion. Before I scheduled the appointment, Dr. Berman, who is also a brilliant surgeon, introduced me to the veterinary technician who would be by her side, Finn's side, during the procedure. Seeing this women's face and knowing she cared enough to meet me gave me more comfort but I was a wreck thinking about the upcoming procedure.<br />
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When I dropped Finn off at the vet that morning, no breakfast in his stomach which he did not understand or approve as he kept running into the kitchen, then onto his bed with an indignant look; I stared at the sheet of paper every veterinary hospital gives you when you drop your pet off at 8am and started bawling. I knew who the audience was, it was me 11 years prior. I read the words, "if your dog is scheduled for surgery later in the day, be thankful. It means your dog is the youngest and the healthiest". I understood the worries of being a new pet parent to a puppy that was being neutered, and how hard it was to wait all day but my Lug's surgery was scheduled for 9am, did that mean he was the oldest and unhealthiest? The Office Manager had left me a message the day prior that they were out of my business cards but I completely forgot to pass them along as I raced out of there, wearing sunglasses on a dreary day to hide my bulging eyes.<br />
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One of the many reasons I love positive training is once Gavin fell off the dog walk; no one, including me, was interested in getting him back on again, we just wanted to re-build his confidence. We had an awesome rest of class, Lil' Big Head's ears flopping in the wind of his own excitement because he chose to continue running through the course. Then, as we were leaving class, the poor dog's dumb mom did not see him hesitate. CRUUUUDDDDDDD! Because, for a second time, in one day, Gavin yelped. Lil' Big Head had paused at the exit and I didn't see it until it was too late and the door caught his tail. Pitiful, considerate, contemplative Lil' Big Head looked at me with the same sad expression he had given me less than an hour prior, but that time it was because of my clumsiness. Thank goodness I had the time to sit in the waiting area and feed Gavin lots of cheese so he has good associations again with the space, and Janice let us get back on the dog walk, one of us on each side of him so he was sure to safely walk up and down the incline. When we got home, all Gavin wanted to do was snuggle and I rubbed his white tuxedo as he fell asleep.<br />
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Those few seconds I waited to see if Gavin had stubbed his leg or if it was something serious were awful. There was nothing I could do but wait. And, the hour and a half I waited to hear that Finn was awake was excruciating. Ring, ring, ring. I saw that it was Dr. Berman's hospital and when I answered, it was her. She has the best sing song voice and told me that her "big man" had came through the surgery amazingly well and they confirmed that the lump was completely benign. When I picked Finn up, he was wrapped in a bandage the veterinary technician told me was to relieve the pressure and prevent fluid from creeping into the space where the lump used to be; I was allowed to remove it within a couple of days.<br />
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What I thought was an ace bandage turned out to be a giant bandaid and when I went to slowly peel it off Finn's abdomen, my Lug yelped and ran into the bathroom. Poor guy stood, wagging his tail, not wanting to move. I sat on the floor with him for a few minutes so he knew I understood and he smothered my face with his awesome slobbery kisses. I pulled the olive oil off the shelf, a bag of cotton balls out of the drawer and called Finn to his bed. Once I realized just how much oil it was going to take to grease up my Lug, I searched for the coconut oil so he would not smell like salad dressing. And, for two hours I coated teeny tiny areas of adhesive over and over again with oily cotton balls so the band-aid glided right off Finn's fur with ease and not a lick of pain. Finn took turns giving me kisses and slurping on his bone. Cream cheese specs on my nose and the smell of the tropics permeating my living room will always remind me of Finn. And, I hope I don't have to hear Lil' Big Head yelp again for a very, very long time.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-34513534170689880172013-10-17T10:52:00.003-07:002013-10-18T09:26:40.761-07:00Bumps in the Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My body instinctively shot straight into the air, I thought my heart was going to thrash out of my chest. Gavin remained undisturbed in dreamland as he rolled over, hummed and murmured. Lil' Big Head only moved because he was nestled in the crook of my knees when I jumped. The crash that woke me was so intense and <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/09/floating.html">I was terrified</a> as I tentatively opened the hideous gold-plated doorknob to my bedroom.<br />
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It has been less time than not that I keep my door shut at night; a bizarre feeling overcomes me still when I actually turn the knob to enter my living room. Despite my attempts to help Finn into my bed or reward him for going to one of his own beds in my room; my Lug preferred sleeping in the living room at night, always in a place he could see me. After we <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/10/october-8th.html">moved into Kate's</a>, Finn slept in the bedroom with me again so I can only deduce he wanted more space to stretch out his old dude limbs. I believe in allowing senior dogs to maneuver in their own ways and pace. Gray faced pups with stiff legs and changing bodies deserve and have more than earned the right to find the comfiest, most relaxing spot to sleep, and walk only when they want. Right now, I am painfully trudging through the book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0226668460/ref=as_li_tf_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0226668460&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">The Last Walk</a>, a read I was desperate to get my hands on <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/09/for-love-of-fall-and-friends.html">last Fall </a>but it had not yet been released. Some of Pierce's entries make my stomach do somersaults but the science behind human-animal bonds and grieving seems to keep my interest. My heart breaks when she talks about her elderly dog Ody hiding all day; "making" the old dog go for walks then watching him fall over and over again; and the poor senior Vizsla getting stuck under the trampoline and lost, repeatedly. I hope Ody is not as miserable as I interpret her words and with every chapter I ingest; I look up and wonder if Finn knows how I hard<a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/10/nine-months-later.html"> I tried to do right by him</a>, especially when he was my merry old man.<br />
<br />
As I walked into my living room, <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/09/twinkle-twinkle-little-pit.html">still no Gavin behind me to protect me</a>; I saw that a latch had broken in one of my windows. No harm, no glass and no burglar; thankfully. When I crawled back into bed, Lil' Big Head stretched and spun in three circles, like he always does and fell back into a deep sleep as close to me as he could. My adrenaline was still buzzing so I wondered as I tried to fall back to sleep, if Gavin would instinctively protect me if it was necessary.<br />
<br />
I have always operated on the assumption that yes, a dog who lives with and loves me everyday would fight along with me if there was a serious threat to either of us. Finn met so many people over the years and wagged his tail or kissed every single one. But, one afternoon, there was a man walking down an alley behind us and the fur on my Lug's back stood straight up as he leaned forward and let off a deep, haunting growl. As the man's footsteps grew further and further away, Finn remained still, his feet in the ground, refusing to walk with me. My Lug never growled at another person again so when Finn finally moved along, I figured that he <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/09/warts-and-all.html">sensed something in that guy I did not see</a>.<br />
<br />
It gave me such peace when just the two of us travelled together that I could rely on my Lug to protect us or scare off someone who heard his deep, hearty <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/barking/">bark</a>. Gavin has <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/barking/">barked </a>a total of five times since he has been with me and it's a scraggly, weeny kind of <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/barking/">bark</a> that provokes pitiful laughter more than fear. After a long drive home from North Carolina, I decided to splurge on a bed and breakfast in downtown Louisville. For some reason, the teeny, tiny woman who rented the place to me, gave me the creeps; and Finn and I were the only guests in the big, breezy house. I slept like a log on the comfiest bed I have ever laid on that night because I always felt so secure with my Lug by my side. I hope my <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/learning-patience-from-dogs/">Finn felt the same</a> with me and Gavin will always know I have his back.<br />
<br />
But, despite being sweet, smart, fun boy dogs; <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/08/friction.html">Gavin and Finn could not be more different</a>. I am a ridiculous klutz and every single time I stubbed my toe on my dresser or broke a coffee cup; I would hear my Lug's paws racing along the hardwood floor as fast as he could. Then I would see his droopy lips, perked ears and sweet, milk-chocolate brown eyes standing over me with his "You okay?" look. Finn could be so serious when he knew he was needed. Once my Lug assured everything was in order, every muscle in his body relaxed as he bounced back to one of his many favorite sleeping spots or whatever was left of a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00AEDY4GE/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B00AEDY4GE&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">bully stick</a>.<br />
<br />
Dear, lovable Gavin very much likes his beauty rest, if he is not playing. I was cleaning the kitchen last <br />
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weekend and dropped a ceramic lid on the floor. I stopped myself on the way to the broom because I was curious; and when I looked around the corner, Gavin continued to lay on his back, warbling. He was completely passed out. Glad to know Lil' Big Head feels safe in my house.<br />
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The first three months with Gavin were laborious. I often looked at him, clueless and confused as to what he was thinking or needed. And, I could see by his eyes, he was thinking, "Lady, I don't know what the heck you want either". I was trying too hard to figure out how to keep Finn in my heart and love Gavin the way he deserves, simultaneously. It might just be time together or perhaps I know more now what Lil' Big Head needs; but I feel like he and I are in such an amiable, beautiful place. Gavin still goes to dog camp once a week. He just loves romping with other pooches so much; I want him to have that joy, not just tire him out, which was the original goal. Usually, on camp day, Gavin waits by the door for Steve to come pick him up. But this week, Lil' Big Head kept hopping back onto the couch with me while I responded to <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/trusting-your-gut-with-dog-experts/">client emails</a>. It was very sweet and once he was wearing his collar and leash, he galloped through the doorway with anticipation.<br />
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One of the main reasons I chose a place on the third floor was the frequency I saw drunks staring at my first floor bedroom window near Wrigleyville. Every time Finn and I sat, resting, on the stairs together; I reminded myself that I chose my home for the safety of both he and I. And, when regrets creep in, I hold on to the belief that <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/stumbling-into-resilience/">seeing dogs so infrequently</a> in our current neighborhood and spending the majority of our time strolling through parks, on grass rather than the sidewalk; kept my Lug stress-free and kicky as long as it did. When I go to sleep at night now, next to my perfect little lump of a snuggler; I keep my mace handy just in case something does go bump in the night.<br />
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Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-69983537655012309892013-10-08T13:48:00.001-07:002013-10-15T15:45:28.087-07:00October 8th<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It was 8:30am and it took all the strength I had when I picked up the phone, not to sob or seem as desperate as I felt. Finn had tripped walking up the stairs and started to twist and tumble backwards. I could see the panic in his eyes as I tried to catch him. Grabbing my Lug's chest; I felt the burning in my ankle as it rolled on the step and we both started to fall. Luckily I was able to grab the railing and stable both Finn and I. My heart was racing and I looked at Finn who was also trying to figure out what had just happened; knowing that we could have both been severely marred. As each ring blared in my ear; I wondered what I would do if Kate had changed her mind about her offer to live in her basement. I was out of other options, medications, herbs and therapies. She was my only hope but I could not bear to put that burden on her.<br />
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From the book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0380773384/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0380773384&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">Healing After Loss</a> by Martha Whitmore Hickman, on October 8th: "In our sadness and despair, can we act and think as though faith is an accurate mirror of truth; that there is, out there in the darkness, a hand that reaches out to us in compassion and love?"<br />
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Ten minutes later, I was packing up Finn's medications, his dog bed, calming music and his Thundershirt. And, once I made sure I had all of my Lug's things; I nabbed my Keurig so we could be ready later that night to move, once he had a chance to rest. I did not know if the arrangement would work. Either of Kate's dogs might have been stressed having a dog they did not know well live in the basement. Finn's anxieties changed so much in his elderly days, a new home might have been too much for him. But, I had to try. I learned a powerful lesson, allowing Kate to help me. And, the risk I took not knowing what could be in a new house paid off by giving me three whole months with my Lug. <br />
<br />
Today, a year later; I could dwell on the fact that Finn is not here to enjoy his favorite time of year. Heck, every time of year was his favorite, but Finn got the biggest kick out of the crunchy leaves when we hiked in the Fall. Or, I could feel sorry for myself because today<br />
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also marks the anniversary of the end of the end with my Lug. But, I celebrate Kate today and will do so every year on October 8th. With a key to her basement, she gave and taught me so much. Because of Kate, I had:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Long strolls through Horner Park, he loved wandering up and down the hill there.</li>
<li>One last road trip to Ohio to chase geese and each as much leftover turkey as he wanted. At his age, Finn no longer had to steal my stepdad's sausage.</li>
<li>A quiet Christmas, filled with my own cooking and visits from friends.</li>
<li>Car rides to Gompers Park, Caldwell Woods, Eugene Field Park and treks through nearby forest preserves.</li>
<li>My birthday hike with Sheila, my Lug ate the snowman's arms and was so spirited, we played our race game and I did not have to pretend to run. I'm so happy Sheila took as much video as she did.</li>
<li>"I got my bone" shuffle down the hall almost everyday. Old dogs deserve to be spoiled. </li>
<li>Snuggling on the couch, twice! It was so amazing for him to want to climb up onto the sofa.</li>
<li>OH MY GOD, happy dance, spindly leg race to greet me at the door every single time I came home.</li>
<li>After 13 years of preferring to "shake" with his left paw, Finn finally decided it would be worthwhile to give right "paw". He still liked to use his brain but senior joints can't do a whole lot, so I got creative.</li>
<li>So many belly rubs, massages, mornings on his dog bed laying nose to nose like no one else in the world existed. The sound of his happy grumble when I hit the right spot will always bring me joy.</li>
<li><a href="http://chicago.cbslocal.com/video/7850150-getting-the-best-for-your-pet/">One last TV appearance</a>, Finn wanted nothing more than to kiss the cameraman and anchor.</li>
<li>A new friend, Bailey.</li>
<li>Countless kisses, laughs, loving moments and reminders that life is worth fighting for.</li>
<li>Eternal peace that I did everything I possibly could for him to have a happy, long life.</li>
</ul>
<br />
Thank you, Kate. You will forever be my angel on earth. And, Gavin loves you just as much as Finn always, always did!<br />
<br />Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-24303957975728372062013-10-03T11:45:00.001-07:002013-10-03T11:54:47.925-07:00Nine Months Later<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I was a child and moaned about being bored; my father promised me that time soars much faster with age. Again and again, I am mystified that it has been a nine months since I stroked one of my Lug's favorite spots, right between his eyes. We laid nose to nose and I whispered, "I'm going to miss you so much". I found it impossible to utter "goodbye". The finality was too much to bear.<br />
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Outside of my sun room; in plain sight from the spot I practice yoga, there are two trees that I often focus my gaze during poses. In the past week, as the leaves have started to fall; the canopies of both trees have dramatically changed shape. Every time my eyes meet the two heart-shaped trees; I think of Finn and wonder if he is sending his love from a beautiful after-life; a world beyond my comprehension. Or perhaps they are just haphazard symbols I need and want to mean something so I can stay connected to my Lug. I have no clue what the answer is, but I know thinking of Finn watching over me from a better place gives me peace and doesn't hurt anyone.<br />
<br />
In the words of Frank O' Connor from the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0380773384/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0380773384&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">Healing After Loss</a>, "All I know from my own experience is that the more loss we feel the more grateful we should be for whatever it was we had to lose. It means we had something worth grieving for. The ones I'm sorry for are the ones that go through life not even knowing what grief is".<br />
<br />
I find this quote fascinating; now that January is further and further away, I try to hide my tears when random reminders of Finn sometimes sting. And, when a client I have not seen in ages asks me about Finn; I sniffle because I miss my Lug, not because of the kind inquiry; though every person expresses how terrible he or she feels about making me cry. And I don't want anyone to feel bad asking about Finn. What a shame it would be if I were unphased. There will always, always be a special place in my heart reserved for my Lug and all our memories. But, my ticker seems to have grown to allow space to adore the snuggle bug, delicate flower that is Gavin; it is very comforting when tears still sometimes strike.<br />
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Friends and family often describe Finn as "gentle" and an "old soul" but that was who Finn grew to be; not who he always was. I remember how happy I was when I discovered the nubbin inside his ears; my Lug barely sat still for any petting unless he was passed out from chasing tennis balls. Oh, Finn's eyes rolled back into his head as he clumsily leaned into my knuckle then knocked my hand onto the pillow with the weight of his head. I thought my Lug was telling me he was done with the massage but when I stopped, he popped his head up with his best "Damnit!" face. So, I smushed my hand back under his head watched it bob up and down as he relaxed; something that did not come naturally to Finn. As I think back to the hours I spent in the last couple of years massaging his old muscles; I acknowledge that those cherished quiet moments were well earned, on both our parts.<br />
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Gavin gives his affection so easily and when he meets any one of his many new daily friends, I no longer have to tell them that I just lost my Finn. I once needed the sympathy to survive. But now, when I see someone who asks about Finn, all I need is a hug. And, Lil' Big Head will happily jingle jangle to join.<br />
<br />
Gavin and I are attending a big fundraiser tonight for the <a href="http://www.safehumanechicago.org/">organization that saved his life</a>; I can't wait to see how handsome he is in his sparkly red bow tie. No doubt Lil' Big Head will be the life of the party and will absolutely cherish all his admirers. I like giving Gavin what he needs and wants. A giant celebration around other dogs would have made Finn crazy. My Lug preferred being an only child and treasured being the center of my attention all the time while Lil' Big Head is completely content blending into the party.<br />
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Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-11592986057662125422013-09-26T13:45:00.005-07:002013-09-30T08:02:55.574-07:00Twinkle, Twinkle Little Pit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It was more than an urge to fill the silence; deeper than the need to feel the unconditional love of a dog; it was a thump in my chest as a very skinny, black dog with snot dripping down his heart-shaped nose stood across the room from me, hesitant. I bent down and I saw his cocoa brown eyes brighten with every wiggly-step he took towards me. The spark between the formerly known as Cappucino and I told me that the meet 'n' greet, arranged by <a href="http://www.aliverescue.org/">Alive Rescue</a>, might have a different ending than the other dogs with heart-wrenching stories that I had met in weeks prior. I fell in love with so many soulful eyes from behind my computer screen then subsequently rubbed burly shoulders or tossed a ball and decided that bringing home an animal simply out of pity was not the right next chapter in my book. I know plenty of people who fall in love with a pooch long after they settle in together; but that was not my path. And, I did not set out to adopt a Pit Bull or not adopt one. Nor did I aspire to bring in a dog for the sake of making a larger impact on the world.<br />
<br />
But, I sensed there may be more for Lil' Big Head and I; just like Finn and no matter what motivated me with either. Sometimes, sitting in traffic, I think of what my typed-up, laminated world might look like if Finn had not rescued me after I saved him. During my first morning walk with Gavin, he gambled behind me down the short, slippery wooden steps of my condo building. I wondered what the hundreds of moms and school children would think of my new puppy. I knew it would be hard to introduce Gavin to my neighbors because my veil of sadness preceded me by at least six steps. But, would they look at him different because he had a giant head? Then, a welcome revelation. The same people I witnessed walk so far into the parkway to avoid my cheery, senior Lug that they almost tripped on the curb also looked eerily over their shoulder and sped up as Gavin trailed behind them. Lil' Big Head's display was really pitiful as he tried so hard to show off his ecstatic scrunch face and accompanying squirm, jiggle dance as person after person passed by him; convinced he loved each human more than the last.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, some kids saw him and squealed, "he is soooo cute" as they surrounded my bouncing performing artist. After I confirmed for half-listening minors that yes, the dog softly oozing into their shins for more, more, more chest massages was probably a Pit Bull; many would start rattling off stories of how funny their Pit Bull is when he snores or how much they love their uncle's Pittie. I have lost count of how many people have sped up to walk with us and ask me if Gavin is a Pit with one breath. Then, passionately illustrate with the next gulp, the friendliness of their own Pit Bull and tell me how the breed gets a bad reputation. The conversation always ends with me receiving a hearty pat on the back for joining in the revolution against prejudice. It often seems like Gavin and I joined a club.<br />
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I snapped the below picture a few days after Gavin came home with me and his face has blossomed so much since then; the way it does when a dog feels understood and secure. In those six months, I forgot that some folks just do not like dogs or big ones. I try to be a respectful good human, even though I cannot imagine disliking dogs. Finn was not allowed to nudge someone that was steering clear of us, and Gavin is starting to understand the same rule. One morning, as Lil' Big Head and I power-walked towards the promised land of squirrels; I saw a petite woman a half block away, scurry the other direction while yanking her petite marshmallow of a dog. The terror in her eyes was so jutting, I looked behind me to see if there was a zombie reaching for my pony-tail. I could feel my deltoids tense and told her in the nicest tone I could muster that just because Gavin is a Pit Bull (or looks like one) does not mean he is mean and she responded, "Oh, I'm sure he's nice but mine is not". Like everyone else, I got so caught up in my own hectic schedule and multi-tasking that I neglected to realize, that very rarely, is it about me.<br />
<br />
There is a man in my neighborhood with a seemingly lovely Boxer who I have seen play with a lot of Lil Big Head's friends before he was my Gavin. But, the dog is always off-leash and the guy, well, was and to my knowledge still is, a real jerk. I used to see the pair together at the park and would ask the man to politely to please put his dog on a leash. I never wanted or cared to explain that yes, Finn was looking up at me. But if the Boxer's dad had met us a decade earlier, Finn's fear of other dogs would have been very clear by the deep barks he heard way before he saw us. I trusted Finn with dogs I knew well and trusted too. But, my Lug's faith in me and relaxed demeanor, around other dogs, was built on a lot of work together and my promise to him that I would keep bouncy dogs away from his face. I was absolutely aghast when I saw this older man, who I believe is also a father to a few human children, dance around and taunt me while saying, "you think your dog is too good for mine" and puckering out his bottom lip. Really, he looked like he just stole my lunch money the way he was sashaying around. I changed our route and now when I see the teenage boy trapped in an older man's body; Gavin and I walk on by. Lil' Big Head does not need to be friends with the Boxer if it means I would have to have spend even two seconds speaking with that guy.<br />
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I would like to believe the world has changed; only twice have I had someone on the street blatantly tell me that Gavin is going to kill them because they label him a Pit Bull or scream bloody murder and run away. Yeah, high pitched noises and fast movement is the best approach near a dog one fear's might be aggressive. Luckily for them, Gavin is quite the opposite. Saturday morning, I was procrastinating cleaning the house when I re-read the story about <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2012/07/04/save-lennox-pitbull-belfast-death-row-dog_n_1648594.html">Lennox, the Pit Bull who was torn from his home in Belfast,</a> I looked at Gavin, who could be Lennox's cousin. He was sound asleep, squeaking and honking on the same bed Finn once quivered and squealed delightfully in dreamland while he rested his head on his ducky toy. I could not imagine, even after only six months, someone taking Gavin from me. And, I was beyond angry.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j1qlLkymdXI/UkSXZb3le_I/AAAAAAAABWM/5xxOfOUKcP4/s1600/Twinkle+G.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j1qlLkymdXI/UkSXZb3le_I/AAAAAAAABWM/5xxOfOUKcP4/s320/Twinkle+G.JPG" width="320" /></a>There are countless animals, sitting behind bars, scared and unwanted. Yet, Lennox, a dog who was <br />
absolutely adored by his family was ripped from his home. Just because he had a big head. I took Gavin for a walk, it was such a beautiful day and I thought it might help me shake the fiery reaction I had to the article. As Lil' Big Head and I entered the forest preserve, I could tell by the way his head perked up; there was a dog ahead of us. I braced myself for the inevitable nut on the forehead. Every single time Finn and I were in that spot, BONK. I would look up and see a squirrel chuckling, holding an acorn.<br />
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So, I asked the obligatory "does your dog like other dogs?" to the mom holding a Beagle's leash. And, when she asked me the same, I could see her hesitate. The shard was wedged on my shoulders. I told her that Gavin was VERY friendly and as the two dogs sniffed butts and shared a few pounces; she sighed and told me she still gets nervous around Pit Bulls. I could have rolled my eyes or fired off some rant about prejudice because I was a still amped up from Lennox's story. But, all that would have told her was I am a jerk. Instead, I let Gavin roll around like a tootsie roll while her sons rubbed his belly and maybe, hopefully, I changed her view of my Pittie and other nice dogs out there. No matter what they look like.<br />
<br />Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-56821285483437136232013-09-18T15:29:00.000-07:002013-10-17T17:16:19.597-07:00For the Love of Fall and Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Without a doubt, Fall is my favorite season; apples, pumpkins, HALLOWEEN, dusting off my hiking shoes and being able to traverse all three parks in my neighborhood on one walk; without worrying about the lovable, four-legged dude bopping along next to me broiling in summer's heat. Last Autumn was a 90-mile an hour, bumpy ride up and down; with loops and corkscrews that throttled me through every twist and turn. I arose each morning with a soft grin; feeling the breeze from Finn's windshield wiper tail wags while he tickled my ear with his old man kisses. But, a heavy dread entered my heart when my Lug paced and panted, <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-comfort-of-home.html">trying to get himself up the stairs</a>. Constantly thankful for Finn's smile and excitement when I walked in the door, I also wondered as I touched the knob if he would be there.<br />
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I was driving Finn to the veterinarian one afternoon and my phone rang, it was Sheila. She asked how I was and I screeched, "How do you think I am? Finn is dying!" And, as the words violently spewed from my mouth, I plummeted. How could I be so mean and terrible to one of my dearest friends in the whole world? I often felt so alone as my Lug aged, like no one understood what weighed on my mind. Would I be able to catch Finn if he fell down the stairs? Was I able to see past my need to have my Lug next to me to know when he was suffering? How would I know what that looked like? The <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/knowing.html">decision on when to let him go</a>, if I was blessed or cursed with it, was constantly there. Even when I tried to not think about it and just walk, snuggle and enjoy every second I had with my Lug. That night and many nights after, my soul sister Sheila brought me dinner and wine. And while Finn wrapped his grey and brown paws around his bone and joyfully sucked out every morsel of marrow; Sheila hugged me when I apologized; and listened while I talked through crocodile tears. I could never repay Sheila for all she did for me and she would never ask.<br />
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It has been almost a year since <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/02/ode-to-camp-kate.html">Kate opened her basement door to Finn and I</a>. Kate's puppy, Grace who is also Gavin's girlfriend, was sharing the perfect autumn stroll with me today as I retraced the same path I took with Finn the morning after we moved in. I remember the relief and amazing simple joys of walking return. <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/cheer-up.html">Finn was so charged up</a>. I will be eternally grateful for Kate's generosity and the most astonishing gift anyone has ever given to me, life with my Lug.<br />
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My walks with Gavin are so different but increasing more relaxing. I so very often fumble trying to recall all his canine pals' names and the <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/06/love-thy-neighbor.html">nice humans </a>who make small talk with me while Lil' Big Head bounces into the air. I have discovered that I avoided a lot of nice dogs in my neighborhood. And, I have grown to look forward to seeing some of the cheerful faces at the other end of their leashes. It is amazing how dogs bring humans together. After I had <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/156785491/ashes-earrings-lever-back-8mm?ref=shop_home_feat">earrings made of Finn's ashes</a>, the beautiful Gina who created my dangly, sparkly reminders of love sent me a scrapbook page of my Lug she plans to use on her website. I was so touched. And, <a href="http://www.hikingwithheather.blogspot.com/">fellow hiker,</a> dog lover, blogger AND my first follower Heather sent me some <a href="http://www.kaninekitchen.net/">delicious treats </a>for Gavin and some of my clients to try. They were a hit and the people who continue to bless me with their presence because of Finn and Gavin never fail to pleasantly surprise me.<br />
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Gavin has been such a superstar in the house that I started thinking about a plan for him to have <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/home-independence/">more freedom when he was home alone</a>. Of course, I am certain<a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/01/its-ok-to-laugh.html"> Finn was whispering in his ear because as I sat in my sun room</a>, looking at my schedule and trying to determine a couple days where he could have short test runs; the little booger ate a piece of my rug and peed on the floor, the latter for the first time EVER. So, in his crate Lil' Big Head stays for now. Then Gavin showed off more of Finn Bear's favorite tricks when a friend came over as he snatched a flip flop and danced around the table, laughing and looking over his shoulder. And, after every stinker puppy moment, Lil' Big Head finds a way to melt my heart. When I dropped him off at <a href="http://www.bowwowlounge.com/">daycare</a> the morning after I repaired my rug, again; Lil' Big Head turned around for the first time. I could see his enormous Pit Bull smile through the glass, while he paused at the door to doggie nirvana. Gavin thought for a second about choosing me over his friends and I fell more in love with him.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-46969734091817509582013-09-11T11:26:00.000-07:002013-09-11T12:45:54.417-07:00Warts and All<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My friend Christine called me to tell me something bad had happened, something terrible. Finn was going to Gurnee the following day to spend the week chasing their dog Payton; letting her jump on his back while he spun in circles making his happy growling sounds I would learn he reserved for few dogs in his life and when her energy exceeded his, my Lug would hold a rope in his mouth and swing his head from side to side to keep Payton entertained. The tone in Christine's voice told me it was not her normal worry wart jingle to remind me to send Finn's favorite toys along and when I turned on the radio; I knew my trip to Paris and London, September 12, 2001, was going to be cancelled. <br />
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Confused, crying, terrified and anxious; I began calling my family and friends; and beat my hands against the steering wheel, sitting, helpless in traffic. All I wanted to do was retrieve Finn from daycare and take him home with me, where I hoped and prayed we would both be safe. Like so many others, I was glued to the television and unable to muster gratitude or even much relief for the well-being of those I love; it felt too cavalier as I watched, with horror the unspeakable tragedies played over and over again. I found comfort in the rich, chocolate brown fur of my crazy, amazing Lug. A creature incapable of being cruel or vicious, just for revenge. Finn laid by side all day, stoic and thoughtful; doing his best to erase the tears plummeting down my cheeks with his sandpaper tongue. No matter how many mistakes I made with him, it would have never crossed his mind to hurt me, it was not his way.<br />
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The day after 9/11, we were on our way to the dog park; Finn was bouncing and zagging along with a giant grin spread across his beautiful face. I had yet to discover my passion for dog training and had barely skated through one round of obedience classes with Finn. My Lug was so strong, a friend gave me a prong collar to walk him after I expressed how worried I was crossing the busy streets in my neighborhood. I was unaware that some folks used them to harshly correct dogs for making bad choices but it gave me more control when Finn's enthusiasm overtook him and turned my Lug into an 80 pound pulling machine. He spotted a dog across the street and the leash, collar and I were no match for his exuberance. My Lug was so excited that when he pulled forward with no regard to what was around his neck; I tripped on the curb and his leash flew from my hands. I heard a loud "SCREEEEEECH! YELP!" and pushing myself off the pavement, I looked up and Finn was not there. A maroon sedan was sitting in the middle of the street and a guy, a really cute one looked at me with the deepest "I'm sorry" eyes I have ever seen. I stumbled across Greenview Avenue as the other dog and his person stood; watching, with sympathy. Finn sat, trembling on the parkway with a big gash above his eye. In the seconds it took for me to drag my aching body across the street, I envisioned the worst but scooped my sweet dog up into the car that had just hit him. To this day, my stomach turns with disgust at how badly I had let Finn down. But, my scrappy Lug forgave me the second his eyes met mine and I held him so tightly while the nice guy gave me his cell phone and drove us to the veterinarian. Finn walked into the waiting room like he was strolling into a party; tail wagging happily side to side and jumping to kiss the first technician he approached, standing there, waiting for us. <br />
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I firmly believe that science has yet to prove the complexity of dog emotions. In the midst of massive chaos in the world; I questioned my own safety but was so in awe of Finn's strength, mercy and courage. I promised him I would never betray his trust again and he rewarded me by showing me everyday what pure happiness truly looked like.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DxoRucWzRLk/UhezFNwJcUI/AAAAAAAABUQ/1GXrcgLvUQs/s1600/photo+%252818%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DxoRucWzRLk/UhezFNwJcUI/AAAAAAAABUQ/1GXrcgLvUQs/s320/photo+%252818%2529.JPG" width="194" /></a>Before my vacation, Gavin and I were making lovely strides in his leash walking and I fully acknowledge it has been a lot of work for both of us. While we separately enjoyed our own version of a holiday; Gavin needed a refresher after more than a week of nothing but rough and tumble play with his canine pals. The very reason I moved to my neighborhood; trees, and lots of them, has cursed me. Trees mean squirrels and Gavin is so crazy overstimulated at the sight of even one bushy grey tail; he can not help his puppy monkey self. I have pep talks in my own head, trying so hard to convince myself that it is not age nor my lack in strength but Lil' Big Head's short, muscley body that has made leash training physically more difficult for me than the 1000's of other dogs I have trained. I will keep telling myself that.<br />
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So, Gavin and I revisited some of the basics we started back in the spring and to help his frustration level, Lil' Big Head is allowed to chase squirrels up the trees again, at Gompers Park only. It helps me use four-letter words on our walks, like "ouch", much, much less. Despite the blemish in our outside progress, Gavin and I seem to have developed a deeper appreciation for each other and I did not anticipate that. Lil' Big Head seems much more eager to listen and he is certainly more content when we are home alone. Our first night back, I think Lil' Big Head was snoring before he even laid down and I know my eyes were shut the instant I opened my bedroom door. I woke up the next morning to Gavin's dear face, head on the pillow next to mine like he had been in my home for years. I tell him all the time what a sweet puppy he is; I am so fortunate to have lived with and still share my home with lovely, nice dogs who would never attack or bite, despite the atrocious things humans have done to them.<br />
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To this day, weeks before 9/11; I wince when I actually put something on my calendar that day and I hope that never changes. I hope I never look at it as just another day, in my own little world. I recall a substitute veterinarian who made a snarky comment about the little wart on Finn's forehead and laughed as she said it would prevent him from ever being a model. I grew more and more sensitive about Finn with time but to me, he was more dazzling with each old man bump, lump and skin tag; once I knew that's all they were. Our relationship grew to one that no longer needed words, we had our own language no one else spoke or understood. My Lug was so adoring, through bad hair days and ill-informed decisions. And, I hope, Gavin will forgive my foibles as I will do his. We are off for a walk, wish us luck. When I stop today and look at up the trees, I will remember and honor all of the people I cried for 12 years ago.<br />
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The photo of Finn is courtesy of <a href="http://www.robynrachelphotography.com/">Robyn Rachel</a>.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-51096553579606690512013-09-04T07:29:00.001-07:002013-09-04T07:50:28.518-07:00Floating<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have never considered myself a water lover. In fact, swimming in the ocean downright terrifies me. I blame the movie <i>Jaws</i>. Standing knee deep in Lake Michigan, tossing a ball with one hand for Finn and slurping java with another does not count despite E coli likely being a more serious threat to me than a shark. Gavin does not waste his time swimming, unless it is to chase another dog into the water. I spent the last week or so sailing through the Adriatic Sea and after a very long hiatus from travelling to faraway places that intrigue me; I found my fire again, in the water.<br />
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Back when I was in the corporate world, I lived for my vacations but as I <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/category/dog-training-and-behavior-articles/">pursued my passion</a>; my "time off" was dedicated to learning and growing. As my Lug's eyes grew more tender and his gait slowed; I traded my frequent flyer miles for road trips with him. I have no regrets. And, as I floated along the bow of a 50-foot sailboat with an absolutely amazing group of people that I just met, looking off into deep navy blue, almost black water for hours on end; I was able to relax and get in touch with my soul in a way that only comes to me when I am plucked out of my own little world.<br />
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After <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/08/my-winky-hurts.html">Gavin's winky incident</a>; I had to put him on quarantine for ten days so he could heal enough to stay at his favorite<a href="http://www.caninecrews.com/"> boarding facility</a>. I thought Lil' Big Head would be bouncing off the walls, as he sometimes does. Though I find the sight of him tearing so fast into the living room sideways that his eyes and ears morph into cartoon character features right before he crashes into the chair then scares himself with the BOOM of my end table hitting the floor hilarious; a week of that as I tried to tie up loose ends for my time away might have added to my lack of sleep. Instead, Lil' Big Head was so super snuggly. It is novel to live with a dog who knows his limits. Finn never did. My Lug would have raced towards the sun's warm rays after his treasured tennis balls the whole day if I let him, even as an old dude. I used to always say that if someone tossed Finn's toy off a cliff, he would have dove right off the edge to get it. I am glad no one ever attempted to test that theory.<br />
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When I dropped Gavin off for boarding, he was so excited to romp again with other dogs that he barely looked over his shoulder as I doted on him and repeated how much I would miss him. And, I recall during my past worldly excursions how much I fretted over what Finn was doing the whole time, if he was okay, and how it really never made a difference; other than adding a few lines to my forehead. I reminded myself as I placed my key into the ignition of my car that Gavin loves dogs more than almost anything in the world and I fully trusted the people who were caring for him. They all laughed when I asked who was the lucky person that had to rub <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-other-side.html">Gavin's prescription ointment</a> on his penis twice a day. Of course, as soon as I had the chance, I sent them an email to check on him but I was able to let go of my worry for the first time and it felt good; better than good. I felt free.<br />
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In Croatia, during some of our longer sailing expeditions between islands; we would anchor the boat in one of the many magnificent, peaceful, turquoise bays. Some of us would make lunch and others would clean up. I was pleasantly surprised by how easily and naturally we all divided the chores. One afternoon, after a long dose of doggie paddling, I realized that I had completely forgotten my fear of open water. I was laying on the deck of the boat, working on nothing more taxing than improving my tan; enraptured by the notion that my aversion so naturally slipped away. As I allowed the sun's rays to dry my skin, I noticed a perfect triangle in the water, close to shore. It sparkled and danced in the light. Whenever I see sparkles, I think of Finn because he exuded zest and a zeal for life. My eyes welled up, but it was joy and not pain I was feeling as I saw him, swimming towards me; ball perfectly positioned in his mouth so he could kick with sweeping delight.<br />
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The idea of my Lug being with me on a boat in another part of the world that he would have never been able to travel if he were here on earth; filled my heart with the love I used to see every time I saw him look up at me. While I gave up my vision of a school of sharks just waiting for me to jump into the sea for their evening meal; I would have not as easily given up the notion they would eat my sweet, chocolate nugget. During one of our many road trips; I daydreamed about Finn and I hiking side by side through Smoky Mountains then napping away on the sun porch of the 32-room house I rented for less money a night than I spend at the drugstore on a regular basis. When we arrived to the entrance of park itself; I saw a sign that announced "Warning: Bears" and the images of hiking with My Lug changed.<br />
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I am grateful everyday for GPS because I would get myself lost on a four-street grid so the notion of not knowing where we were and coming face to face with an animal that could kill both my Lug and me with one bite altered my course. Instead, we spent the days hiking around the farm, meandering around town and me reading while my Lug chewed a bone. For my own safety, I decided to explore the mountains solo from a cable car and Finn joined me in the back seat as I enjoyed the foliage from the safety of my car.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_PFRK8SH4as/Uic4AP6yL0I/AAAAAAAABUg/xUVAiuhjBQI/s1600/photo+%252821%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_PFRK8SH4as/Uic4AP6yL0I/AAAAAAAABUg/xUVAiuhjBQI/s320/photo+%252821%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a>During my vacation, I also let go of my fear of jumping off of a boat. Once I stopped wobbling, gripping and holding onto the railings for dear life; I felt like a kid as I plunged into the water then climbed the ladder to do it over and over again. Finn never held back. If he saw something that he knew would make him happy; my Lug raced towards it, without hesitation. I watch Gavin openly bring happiness to the world too. To date, no one has passed us during our illegal fetch trips to the school yard without laughing at him as he wiggles and shimmies towards them.<br />
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I hope to carry my fearless heart with me now that I am home again, who knows where it might lead? I keep thinking about the person I was in 2012 as I watched Finn fade and saw myself dwindle in the process. I feared the person I might become without my Lug to inspire me, greet me at the door and shower me with the world's best slobbery kisses but I am learning that I am braver than I have ever been. In the words of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0380773384/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0380773384&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">Martha Whitmore-Hickman:</a> "We will, of course, find new places to put the affection and love and time that we used to pour out to the one we lost. Not to do that would be to turn inward, refuse to be vulnerable-a poor memorial, a poor stewardship of the life left to us." And, I have a pretty good life to live.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-90903939303122803402013-08-22T07:35:00.000-07:002013-08-22T07:35:14.321-07:00The Other Side<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There's a place, Lil' Big Head, <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/05/dear-gavin.html">on the other side</a>. Where the sun shines through the leaves and there's enough breeze that I can chase after my tennis balls for hours on end. But, the air is warm enough that if I want to paddle away in the endless lakes, I can do that to. <a href="http://barkerbehavior.com/stumbling-into-resilience/">Dogs aren't mean to me anymore</a>. My body can run as fast as my heart wants to. And, if I get going too fast and tumble, I can bounce right back up like I used to.<br />
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I know things here that I didn't know when I was next to our mom. I know our mom is still sometimes sad that I am not there and I hate it when people ask her all surprised "you still miss him?" Duh! I was <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/05/finally-sunshine.html">by her side </a>every day for almost fourteen years, of course she still misses me. The other stupid question that I see makes her cry is "you replaced your dog?" Dude, no one can replace me. And, I'd be pretty<a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/04/great-expectations.html"> ticked off </a>if I were in your paws too. If you and I were different dogs, we might consider biting them, eh?<br />
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I know she sometimes feels guilty for not being sad as much as she was. Please give her slobbery kisses from me so she knows I don't want her to feel sad. I want her to think of me and laugh at my <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/08/friction.html">practical jokes</a>. She also needs to go out and explore like we used to. I can see so many amazing places from where I am, I want her to see them and tell me all about them when she gets here.<a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/circles-of-life.html"> I can wait.</a><br />
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She knows a lot more now about us dogs than she did when I was your age. I taught her so much. Tell her I loved teaching her all that stuff and to never, ever feel bad she didn't know it then. I know she feels me sometimes. When the cool wind blows through the trees as you walk next to her, I can see her smile. She knows it's really me giving her big, sloppy kisses. <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/05/boomerang.html">I remember seeing her sad one night</a> while she rubbed your velvet ears and you stretched and snored. I saw her lighten the next morning after I left all those heart-shaped leaves for her on your morning walk. And, I know she thought it was a mouse at first; but she figured out it was me tickling her feet every now and then.<br />
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I went to that <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/08/my-winky-hurts.html">awful place</a> too, twice! Once a dog tried to attack me and our mom was able to get him away. But then a second dog came at me and he was faster than our mom. He nailed me right in my manhood. I walked into the emergency room; wagging my tail so much that blood flew all over the place. It sure would have taken more than that to knock me down. I went another time too when mom thought I was having a seizure. Her friends <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/knowing.html">Sheila and John</a> rolled me up on my bed like a taco and helped her carry me <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-comfort-of-home.html">down the stairs.</a><br />
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You are so lucky, it's not that hot this summer. Our walks last summer were short because man, was it steamy. Sometimes people asked our mom how old I was. Then they would ask, "how long do they live" then look at me with pity. I see her make the same disgusted face to people who make a dumb comment about you being a Pit Bull. Our neighbor Paul had a Pit Bull named Harper, he was a really cool dog. He and I would hang out the yard with Bentley, the Whippet and our parents. All three of us were the same age. Bentley met me at the gate here and I got to see his dad Brett not long before I crossed the bridge.<br />
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Brett never looked at me with pity, I liked him a lot. Paul too. Paul used to say my name real loud and excited over and over, it made me so happy my tail almost wagged off a couple of times. And, even though I was old, I was happy. Our mom may have cried more in my last year than she ever did but she always looked at me like the strong dog I always was and it helped keep me happy. No need to be sad little puppy. I know the cone sucks but before long, it will be gone and you will be back to <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/07/spittin-pretty.html">rough housing with all your dog friends again.</a><br />
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I may be here and there at the same time but it's your job now to protect her like I did. There was a time she and I were walking and this lady lost control of her two dogs and they attacked me. I didn't get bitten but it was scary and boy, were they loud. Every time they would lunge at me, I jumped away just for a second and came back to mom to make sure she was ok. My job was to <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/02/ode-to-camp-kate.html">protect her </a>and now it's your turn. You take good care of her down there.<br />
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I used to know she was going on a trip by all the bags laying around. I loved going to daycare or to stay at grandma's house when she did. As I got older, her friend Candice stayed with me a couple times but mostly I went with her when she packed her bags. She stopped taking trips the older I got and I was glad to have her at <a href="http://lugofmylife.blogspot.com/2013/02/slowing-down.html">home more</a>. I can see she's planning a big vacation and you will be going to play with dogs. You have fun. I'll watch over her for you.<br />
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Love,<br />
FinnBrandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-56489582372877724832013-08-15T07:36:00.000-07:002013-08-15T07:36:08.603-07:00My Winky Hurts!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PjenCTA-KMs/UgzjNKZz16I/AAAAAAAABSc/8ioFBx9nZ0w/s1600/photo+(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PjenCTA-KMs/UgzjNKZz16I/AAAAAAAABSc/8ioFBx9nZ0w/s320/photo+(14).JPG" width="320" /></a>Finn! Buddy! Pal! I love it here so much. I get to do my two favorite things A LOT, play and snuggle. I could do both all day long. But, I have to tell you ya big lug, the past couple of days have been a little rough on me. I went to what mom calls "dirtball" camp and I couldn't really tell her or any of the other nice people I met that night whether I just licked myself a bunch in my crate before she got home or if it was my allergies but my winky was SO BIG and hurt so bad. You were totally right. Mom took one look at it when she was wiping me off like she always does and started picking up her hanging thing and those jingly toys that open the door. I heard her tell someone on that flat thing she yaps on all day that she didn't blame anyone; that I am "sensitive" and she's learning allergic to everything.<br />
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My winky burned so much that I didn't want to walk at all. She picked me up and carried me to the door but I still couldn't bring myself to walk. Mom carried me down all three flights of stairs and a block away to get me to our car. I just hung out in her arms and looked at her when she put me down for a second to let her know it hurt too bad to pee too. We went to this place and man, was it crowded. There were so many dogs but I just wasn't up to saying hi to anyone. This one guy there kept scratching me real hard on my head and telling everyone his dog broke his foot before then had to come back because he ate his cast. I don't know what a cast is but I don't think I'd like to eat it. I like beef and fish and that's about it.<br />
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Then, there were these nice ladies who spoke to me in Spanish. It made me so happy that I tried to wiggle for them like I usually do but it made my winky feel bad again so I laid down. It was not fun at all to lay on that cold, hard floor. I usually get to snuggle on the couch or our warm bed with all the pillows. I was so scared and cold that I was shivering so mom sat on the floor with me. It helped some but then another nice lady brought our mom a blanket for me. She wrapped me up like one of those burritos people like to eat and that made me feel okay enough to sleep a little. EVERYONE kept disappearing and it started getting quiet. I kept wondering what the heck I was doing there and why my winky hurt so bad.<br />
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These other sweet girls sat on the floor with me too some of the time. They both held my head in their hands and smooched me on the face, a lot. I liked it so much, I kissed them back. If I felt better, I would have danced for them. I rarely turn down a chance to boogie but last night, I was not feeling it. Those girls talked about their dog Zoe, I just know I would have liked her if I met her. The big, cold room was empty when some lady who looked real tired came out and said my name. Our mom jumped up. She was so happy and I thought we got to go home to snuggle but they laid me on a SUPER cold table that was way up high. They said Zoe had to stay the night, I let our mom know I did not want to do that. She hugged me real tight to let me know she didn't either.<br />
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The worst part was I had to go away from mom and they touched my winky with this wet thing. I yelped! It stung so much. Then, they left me, can you believe it? Did you ever go to such an awful place? I hope not! But, they came back super fast and said something about "pain medication". I woke up with this stupid thing around my neck and and my tummy felt so icky. Everyone looked blurry. I thought I saw mom but I tried to stand up, I fell back down again. I never wanted to feel like that again. I heard some stuff I couldn't understand and fell back asleep for while.<br />
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Then, there was our mom again. She looked tired. She carried me into the car, up the stairs and into bed. It was so awesome to be home. I fell right asleep. Boy, did I miss that warm bed! Mom started moving around so soon. But I just wanted to sleep. She let me stay on the bed until I had to go in my house with that cone. It sucked SO BAD! But, then my new friend <a href="http://www.pawlosophy.net/">Lela</a> came over to snuggle, I like her a lot. She laughed at me before when I was playing with my squeaky toy and she's real nice. I liked being carried around so much that I was hoping mom would do it again when we went for our walks. But she said I was too heavy for that and put this orange thing on me that was big enough it would have fit you and used this handle so I didn't have to walk all by myself. It wasn't my favorite like playing and snuggles but it was cool to be outside again and see some of my doggie friends. No one seemed to notice my red winky and it's feeling much better.<br />
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I even got to say hi to the nice people on our walks this morning and chase my squeaky toys at the tennis court. My winky still itches a lot and I want to lick it so bad all the time. Mom won't let me. And, I hope I never have to go to that place again, ever. Our mom has been extra nice to me and giving me extra snuggles and treats so I wouldn't say it's all bad. I FINALLY get a break from that stupid thing on my neck! Gotta run and lay on my back for awhile before mom makes me put it on again.<br />
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LOVE YOU!<br />
GavinBrandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-22609994961151337152013-08-08T07:01:00.000-07:002013-08-08T07:01:15.515-07:00El Diablo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Now it is easy to laugh about the excessive, naughty approach Finn used to engage with absolutely everyone when was a pup. And, when he grew to be my old, merry man; I was much more forgiving of the few times I was awoken to late night anxious barking in much the same way I would shrug my shoulders if my grandmother made an off-colored comment but I would gasp if my friends made the same remark.<br />
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I recall not long into my training career; Finn and I had were on a walk and the two of us were completely butting heads. My Lug had his mind set on eating every piece of half-eaten sandwich and other disgusting trash off the city sidewalks no matter how many times I told him to "leave it" and rewarded him for good behavior. The last few blocks of our walk; I was mentally drained and Finn seemed equally uninterested in engaging with me as I looked ahead; emotionless, counting every step towards our apartment. I unleashed Finn inside and found something to redirect my flustered energy towards while my Lug chewed on his bone. A couple minutes later, I walked over and curled up behind Finn on his bed, gave him a squeeze and expressed how sorry I was for getting so frustrated with him. My Lug stood up, huffed, walked away then came back to get his bone and took it as far away as he could from me in our tiny apartment. Finn gnawed his dehydrated cowhide with so much intensity, glancing up every couple of seconds; if I did not know better, I would have thought Finn was imagining his bone was my head.<br />
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Gavin has hung in there with our leash walks because I stop for fetch breaks; allow him to throw himself at his neighborhood dog friends or he gets to show off his cannonball skills as he shoots himself straight into the air at trees when I tell him "get it" but adolescence has turned my dreamy Lil' Big Head into El Diablo. Gavin and I were on our morning stroll and we started later than usual which meant I was unable to sneak us into the school yard for me to toss his squeaky tennis balls for him. Lil' Big Head races so fast towards all my clumsy tosses that I can see every muscle and ripple in his taut little body when his paws hit the ground thud after thud. I tried to let Gavin blow off some steam at the tennis courts but he had it in his giant head he was going to catch the balls then throw himself onto the net and roll around. Even though I kind of feel like a jerk for not adhering to the "No Dogs Allowed" sign; it is absolutely not cool for him to destroy the nets, so we left. As we continued our walk; EVERY single dog we passed was growling and lunging. So, of course, Gavin was not allowed to engage in his normal sidewalk canine romp fest. And, I recently had to refrain from letting him jump at trees because he was getting so fired up that he cut his mouth open while trying to grab on to the trunk; it is my job to keep him safe AND let him have fun.<br />
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So, without any outlets for Gavin's puppy energy, our walk was miserable and I told him with every step while he looked around at anything and everything but me. Lil' Big Head would pull, I would stop or take a couple steps back. Then, he would squeal like I was killing him and plant his paws into the ground, trying really hard to scale the tree or twist his head like he was engaged in an exorcism when we passed each aggressive dog. Gavin was whining and amped up and bit me in the butt during this whole scene. He had not done any puppy nipping since the first two weeks he was in my house so I screamed "ouch" and looked down at him with shock and horror. This dastardly walk came on the tail end of a couple days where I would tell him "sit" and he would stare at me and lay down or mumble in protest and race around the house like he was possessed. Our last night at Trick Class; I knew he was not going to be the star performer as I had endured four days of complete butt-head behavior and I guessed right, he spent half the class turning away from me.<br />
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While I have made conscious effort not to expect Gavin saunter next to me on walks through our giant <br />
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neighborhood parks the same way Finn did; I have had a couple exhausting weeks. In hindsight, the same time Gavin hit adolescence; I inadvertently began walking slower than we had been. I naturally did so for the past few years to accommodate aging Finn; of course it is my default but I sure miss those reflective, relaxing walks. There will be some major tightening of the house rules and I will do better by my El Diablo puppy by giving him his daily dose of crazy play so we can get back to leash walks not being a constant struggle. And, while Finn's version of chasing a squirrel up the tree was stomping his grey paws at the roots with his "gnarr, gnarr, gnarr" bark to let the little vermin know he was a bad ass; I have to use toys and games to give Gavin the outlet he needs so he does not turn into satan dog again trying to protect Chicago streets from squirrel invasion.<br />
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Lil' Big Head and I arose ridiculously early yesterday morning to get in our strict training routine which I rewarded with an insanely intense game of fetch. Then, we went for the fastest long walk we have taken in weeks and it was delightful. He was happy, I let go of some my pent-up stress and El Diablo fell fast and peacefully asleep when we came home.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-104275859157278652013-08-01T07:57:00.002-07:002013-08-01T17:22:39.661-07:00Friction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"You don't heal from the loss of a loved one because time passes, you heal because of what you do with that time"-Carol Crandell<br />
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I received a message last week that a spry, young female dog was in need of some short-term tender loving care in a home environment. When things like that are thrown to me, I say "yes" when it is at all humanly possible because I find comfort and healing in helping others. Gavin was over the moon to have another dog in the house. Lil' Big Head was racing from one room to the next with his <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1449437524/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1449437524&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">OMIGOD</a> face; "this is where we drink water and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1449437524/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1449437524&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">OMIGOD</a>, you are here. This is where I want to wrestle and I have to pounce on you now I'M JUST SO EXCITED and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1449437524/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1449437524&linkCode=as2&tag=luofmyli-20">OMIGOD</a>, chase me now. WEEEEEEE!!!"<br />
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When Spry Girl Dog was in her crate and Gavin was not; Lil' Big Head was like a lovesick teenager, sitting by the wire door with pleading eyes then rushing to my side with a more desperate look as if he was saying "PLEASE let her out to play" with one silent, meaningful glance. I needed two seconds to go to the bathroom here and there and did not want the two knuckleheads to eat my couch. Spry Girl Dog's stay ended a day later and when she had to leave; Gavin laid in her crate by the door and looked up at me with the saddest look I have ever seen on his face. He laid his head down on her fleece blanket and sighed a hopeless and crushed breath; I was certain Lil' Big Head was broken-hearted that his dog girlfriend could not stay forever.<br />
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But later that night, Gavin walked up to me on the couch and just stared. A soft, uncertain look towards me but not directly at me; his sweet face was lost. I invited Lil' Big Head to join me so we could snuggle and he did not leap into the air towards the couch like he normally does. Instead, Gavin creeped up next to me and lightly, warily nudged his head onto my shoulder. And, I realized that he was not in the crate because he was sad to see Spry Girl Dog leave but, he thought he was going to leave. I have no idea how many dogs Gavin has seen come and go in his life and previous homes but I do know he is a very sensitive little guy. He made that trait clear the first day we tried to go for a long walk, poor Lil' Big Head was absolutely certain the airplanes were coming to kill him as he threw himself to the ground every time one flew over us. I hugged him tightly that night and told him that I promised he was not going anywhere. And, though I'm sure all he heard was "blah, blah, blah, blah", something in my tone must have given comfort because he oozed towards me then flopped onto his back, I heard "pfffffttt" and held my nose as I chuckled. His farts are deadly.<br />
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I would never wish a bad experience on anyone. But, I do believe when you comfort a dog and show him that you will be there; with your own special language, understood between just the two of you that it strengthens your love for each other in a way that makes the fun, silly times even more marvelous. I used to say that I was not sure if I would have appreciated Finn as much as I did if he were not such a <br />
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juvenile delinquent nor if he had come into my life at a different time. When I rescued Finn, I was absolutely devastated about a miserable breakup with the man I thought I was going to marry and found the most amazing healing of my heart in taking care of my Lug and nurturing his puppy soul.<br />
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Years ago, Finn and I were at <a href="http://www.chicagoparkdistrict.com/parks/Hamlin-Park/">Hamlin Park</a>, playing fetch, is there any other game? When his brisk pursuit of his favorite neon yellow toy caused him to ungracefully hit the grass in a mish-mash of paws, tail and ball; I heard him yelp. When my Lug tried to stand up, he kept tumbling to one side and I could see he had torn the ligament in his knee, again. I reached for my phone to call my neighbor to come get us, recalling that I left it at home. So, I carried Finn seven city blocks; all 80 pounds of him at the time and not one person driving down Belmont Avenue stopped to offer us help. A dog of dignity, Finn never fussed when I picked him up and clumsily walked a couple steps then, as gently as possible, put him down again for a short break. The trip felt like it took forever, but as miserable as it was for me and I am certain not enjoyable for my Lug; he gave me gentle kisses on my cheek every time we stopped for me to catch my breath.<br />
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Now I know to appreciate how carefree I am when I watch Gavin play and crash towards his ball or another dog then bounce right back up and run again. I never want to take that for granted. And, while I would never wish for Finn's absence, or the hole in my heart left by his passing; I have tremendous peace knowing that when lightning and thunder charge through the Chicago sky, Finn is not anxious or suffering and Gavin is snoring and farting the storm away.<br />
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The above photo of Finn was taken by <a href="http://rhondahphoto.com/">Rhonda Holcomb</a>, photographer, animal lover and good human extraordinaire.Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7886290892675143397.post-36240499622706251242013-07-25T12:58:00.001-07:002013-07-25T20:36:35.853-07:00So Many Angels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last week, when I read that the infamous <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Schoep.and.John">Schoep</a> crossed the Rainbow Bridge, I began to weep and I could not stop. I ran across the beautiful photo of John's dearest friend resting on his chest as the two coasted in the water; an act described to help ease the aches in Schoep's senior joints. While it was only a snapshot of their life together; I was moved by their bond and have the two of them to thank for a few good months with my Lug in our own home. Finn had been getting acupuncture and chiropractic care to keep him in tip top shape but I had never thought of laser therapy until reading about Schoep and John. And, the article came at the right time because I was spending a lot of time snuggled up with Finn, crying because I could feel him giving up after he refused a couple walks. And, my Lug adored his walks. But, after we started laser therapy, he bounded up the stairs again like a puppy.<br />
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Like so many other animal lovers who have silently cheered on Schoep and John from afar; I mourned for John's tremendous loss because I could barely function the days following Finn's passing. Getting out of bed was sometimes too difficult and I would find myself wandering around my neighborhood, freezing, with Finn's leash and collar in my pocket.<br />
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My family and friends never asked me what they could do to help me; they just showed up and cooked me dinner or let me sleep in their guestroom with their own dogs. I received a call from the crematory letting me know that Finn's ashes were ready and while I had planned to wait for my mom's arrival to make the drive to Hinsdale; I felt a deep need to have my Lug at home, with me, where he belongs. So, I drove out to the suburbs and even with a GPS system got myself turned around somehow. I found this lovely little street filled with antique shops; I opened the door to one, thinking that maybe, just maybe they might have an urn that would be fitting for my Finn. It had to be perfect but I was terrified to speak, as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and did not recognize the lost soul who looked back at me.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B3W6fOMW5Zk/UfGBXse2lxI/AAAAAAAABRU/-N18M0S9upA/s1600/photo+(6).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B3W6fOMW5Zk/UfGBXse2lxI/AAAAAAAABRU/-N18M0S9upA/s320/photo+(6).JPG" width="240" /></a>A large, white-haired gentleman sat behind the counter and kindly asked me if he could help me. My head hung low and my shoulders were hunched over as I tried to tell him that I was looking for something special to hold onto what I still had with me of my soulmate dog. The man walked around the counter and picked up a beautiful dark grey, speckled urn with a gold ring painted around the lid and I asked him how much it was. The human angel standing in front of me placed the urn in a bag and held my hand as he said "God bless you" and I could barely walk out of the store I was so touched and the tears poured down my cheeks.<br />
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I think the hardest thing about losing our amazing dogs is that when we cry; they never try to fix it, they never grip our arm and try to stop the tears. They just listen, sometimes lick our hands or walk next to us until their bodies are too frail to do so. Then, we sit with their heads in our laps and stroke their fur to thank them for all the years they have been by our side.<br />
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Finn, Goldie, Sadie, Sonny, Sammy, Dink, Fannie, Guinness, Opie, Sherman, Chyna, Lexi, Reggie, Albert and all the other incredible dogs out there who have forever changes the lives of their people; please welcome Schoep with open paws. Take good care of him, he was a very special dog. And, Gavin and I hope that the people John loves most will be by his side and others give him the privacy he needs to tend to his heart.<br />
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<br />Brandi Barkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09023750375139049931noreply@blogger.com3