Puppy

Today, I had a horrible headache. We had an appointment to go into work, though, so I took my asprin and staggered onto the van.

I knew snacks were tragic and they were bad. Ron also needed help clearing off a pallet in our big stockroom. Anyway, I battled the headache and my ever-present nausea. I stocked the machines, I waited outside and roasted like a potato. I waved at our van, came home, and ate some soup.

After I figured I'd given the soup some time to settle, I laid down and took a nap with Puppy. What? I have a dog. Allow me to explain.

For a while I've been thinking Puppy deserved an entry of his own. As you all know by now, Ron was in a horrible accident almost 5 years ago. He spent over a month in ICU. We had crisis after crisis, setback after setback. In between his hospitalizations, my grandmother died. It was tough.

One thing I heard constantly was "So, I guess Ron will get a guide dog now." Or "When is he getting a guide dog?" The implication being - Ron walked to work on his own. He was hit by a truck. It's not the guy who was in a hurry's fault, the guy who ran a red light, the guy who broke several traffic laws. No, it wasn't his fault, it was Ron's for walking alone and mine for letting him. (HA! No one lets Ron do anything!). These well-meaning souls kept asking and asking about Ron's future guide dog.

It was 2 years before Ron could even walk much. But they didn't think of that. One must be ABLE to get around in order to get a guide dog. Besides, Ron's girlfriend had one that had to be put down. "It's like losing a child" he said. He still gets emotional when he talks about that dog.

He also made a good point about white canes - use it up, throw it out. Someone breaks it, buy a new one. It's less committment.

One day I was out shopping at Walmart and I saw a cute stuffed dog. It was a "German Shepherd" with floppy legs and a cute expression. It was maybe a foot long, only a few dollars, and I said "Aha! Here's the guide dog!"

I took it to the hospital and showed Ron. I even sat it on his bed. A few days later, I found out my mother died.

Only my faith in God sustained me. I'd almost lost my husband repeatedly. I had lost my grandmother. I was paranoid and manic and having a really bad time overall.

The stuffed dog's black eyes seemed to gleam with sympathy as I lay down one night, and I snatched it close. When I was a little girl, I had a stuffed bear. I slept with him every night, and he was the first thing I wanted when I woke up from eye surgery at age 3.

I was very shy about being caught with Puppy. I felt like I had this strong, capable, caregiver image to project. I had to be the kind of woman who didn't need a stuffed animal. So I'd put him on the arm of my fold-out chair bed in the hospital room. If I woke up, I'd see him and I didn't look quite so "weak".

When "we" were released, Puppy came home with us. He slept on the floor with me, in the same room with Ron. Then my aunt gave us an old daybed frame, we got off the floor. Remember I had undiagnosed type 1 bipolar so I had PLENTY of ups and downs. Puppy was there for me every night.

Cats are fickle. I love sleeping with a cat in the bed, therefore, they hardly ever do it. I could roll over on Puppy, squash him, drop him out of bed, he's happy. If you remember your Velveteen Rabbit he's certainly real.

One of my favorite memories of my cat Baby Girl is one morning when she climbed into bed with me. She was a smallish kitten at the time. She startled when she saw Puppy, so I made him "Bark" at her. She galloped off. This happened a few times a week.

One morning, I woke up and she was dragging him off by an ear, growling ferociously. She showed Puppy who was the boss!

I still sleep with Puppy every night. You couldn't pay me to give him up.