I might be okay but I’m not fine at all…
Oh My Little Dixie Cup (as her registration papers read.) I found her at a time where I think I found myself — when I reached the point where I knew it was time. That if I didn’t finally get a dog, I was going to make some poor life choices. I held her close when I was threatened and had to move apartments, scared for us both and grateful to be safe. She loved the beach, and didn’t mind the weekend we got stranded in Long Island with friends since we were there together.
She was always so excited for me to return, whether from a 30 minute errand or a two week trip. She would sneeze with excitement, her whole body shaking from the strength with which her tail wagged.
It broke her heart when the human kids arrived on the scene, but she managed until she was able to find her way back to my lap and our home together.
She loved scrambled eggs, belly rubs and running laps on the couch so fast she was a blur. She loved to bark, especially at Vincent D’onofrio when we lived in Gramercy and dogs 4x+ her size, no matter where she encountered them.
I snuck her into restaurants and in and out of my first apartment on 55th Street for months, where I learned after bringing her home she wasn’t allowed but I also knew she was going nowhere without me.
I took her all up and down the island of Manhattan — on the pavement, in cabs, trains and buses, hanging her carrier on the back of dressing room doors with only one accident at a Bloomingdale’s (ooops.) And my friends came in every year just after Valentine’s Day to celebrate her birthday with the annual “Dixie’s Birthday Brunch.”
She couldn’t fall asleep for months without seeing me out of her crate. When NYC got to be too much for me, she snuggled by my side and would lick my tears.
Whether roaming the backyard in Alabama or New Jersey or pounding the pavement and riding the subway in Manhattan, she made herself at home. Oh my sweet girl. 16.5 wonderful years, but still never could be close to enough time. I will miss you so.
—
The Last Battle
If it should be that I grow frail and weak,
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
then you must do what must be done
For this, the last battle, can’t be won.
You will be sad, I understand,
Don’t let the grief then stay your hand,
For this day more than all the rest
Your love and friendship stand the test.
We’ve had so many happy years,
What is to come can hold no fears.
You’d not want me to suffer so;
When the time comes, please let me go.
Take me where my needs they’ll tend
And stay with me, if you can, to the end.
Hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time, you will see,
It is a kindness you do for me.
Although my tail its last was waved,
From pain and suffering I’ve been saved.
Don’t grieve that it should be you,
Who must decide this thing to do,
We’ve been so close, we two, these years;
Don’t let your heart hold any tears.
Smile, for we walked together for a little while. –Author Unknown
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