As I experienced my career gear shift this month, I knew that I was meant to do something else and start a new chapter. With the loving support of my husband, we decided that I would take two to three months to see what my options are in terms of what my next career steps are, whether corporate, creative, hybrid or something completely different.
I listened to my intuition and felt seeing my sister celebrate her birthday was important. A snowstorm hit on Saturday forcing a reschedule and pick up at the ALNB of my artwork, so instead of Saturday, I decided to leave on Monday after my obligations were met.
The journey on Monday started at Autumn Ridge, CDHR’s farm, where I dropped off the cornerstone for the barn that is currently being built.
I then journeyed to New Britain to pick up two paintings from the previous show and drop off two for the “World of Color” exhibit coming up next, which I shared in my previous post.
After fulfilling my Monday morning obligations, I was free and clear to journey up north to Maine to visit my sister, brother-in-law, and furry niece Blizzard, a 14-year-old husky/shepherd mix.
I drove on 84 E, with light traffic, blessed with a drive clear of roadblocks and aggravation, while listening to Willie Nelson’s album, including his cover of Blue Skies:
“Never saw the sun shinin' so bright
Never saw things lookin' so right
Noticin' the days hurryin' by
When you're in love, oh how they fly
Blue days, all of them gone
Nothin' but blue skies from now on”
I filled my tank in Charlton, including a quick lunch grab and a gas at the pump so that I could be confidently on my way to Camden.
I arrived about 15 minutes ahead of schedule. I looked up at the house as I pulled into the driveway, and didn’t see Blizzard at the window. “Stalker dog” we used to say when we saw the eyes and ears at the window of my furry niece Blizzard, followed by the ultimate zoomies when I opened the door.
There was no stalker dog. There were no zoomies.
Blizzard was not the dog I once knew; the head tilt, the clouded eyes, the difficulty of balance, and the neurological difficulty.
We had moments of connection. She would walk towards me, wagging her tail, wanting the connection of me, her auntie who loved her so much.
We knew it was her time.
The vet’s office was closed on Mondays and had to wait until the morning for my sister to contact them to describe her condition and not let her suffer anymore.
There were moments when she rallied. However, they were overshadowed by overpowering discombobulation, fear, and limited senses.
I was in the room when my sister made the call to the vet—at 9:30 am. We didn’t want her to suffer any longer.
Sometimes the kindest thing is to let someone you love, go. Go in peace, go in dignity, go in love.
We gave ourselves plenty of time, especially with the snow, and the pace of a senior dog in her twilight. We arrived safely at the vet’s office, where we were greeted warmly and quickly shown to the room.
She was given her last treat, “Cheese Wow” on a stick. She ate it all but had near misses with her limited sight and trying to stay balanced.
The masks we wore in the office were lifted frequently to wipe away the uncontrollable tears.
I had the privilege of holding the paw while she yawned, taking her last breaths, and hearing her last heartbeats. My sister stroked her face, head, and ears at this beautiful yet devastating, heartbreaking, and gutwrenching moment.
Instead of sharing the final moments, I’d like to share how I want to remember Blizzard:
The snow fell afterward as dense as our tears.
It is the everyday little things that we miss the most.
The barks outside that aren’t hers.
No one to give the pieces of food to.
No one to hit our legs with a furry tail.
No one to throw the toy to.
We don’t need to put our laptops in a safe place.
We don’t need to push the food from the counters.
No one needs to go outside at this time.
No more messes, no more barks.
We grieve one of the most incredible dogs that ever lived and that we loved so much.
Yet, we were together to grieve, and that is such a gift.
“Love is the greatest healer to be found”