Oh baby baby....b..baby baby

So my daughter has been calling me complaining about how yucky she feels after receiving her Depo-Provera shot, with it's accompanying nausea, fatigue, rash with raised spots and difficulty cleaning her house. I gave my advice on how to pre-soak her dishes, lay down and come back to load em up in the dishwasher later, and how "not-important" it is to have a spic and span house etc.

A couple days later she calls bauling saying she's "pregnant" after receiving the Depo shot. OMG, what is all that progesterone from the Depo shot going to do to the fetus? We read everything we can find about getting pregnant after receiving the shot and all the articles are about how women have a hard time "getting pregnant", not "what happens if you "get" pregnant after receiving that shot.

My mind is racing. I feel my research Gestapo engine kick in. I'm scared to find out if the baby is going to grow a sixth toe, have a cleft lip or become homosexual after such a serge of hormone during critical formation time. (Wow, I can't believe I actually questioned homosexuality as something to be afraid of compared to a cleft palate!!! I'm not homophobic!!) Then I realize that my own fears have rubbed off on my eldest. She has become me. Miss paranoia looking to find a flaw in her child to blame herself for.

I'm afraid I've carried my fear of causing Aub's problematic ears with me ever since I took Bendectin for nausea while trying to keep my job at Pepperidge Farm cookie factory with morning sickness. She is now doing the same thing about her daughters weight. Never in my life have I seen anyone worry about their babies weight like I've seen Aub fret and frown about Claralynne being little. She is not too little. That kid has the healthiest lungs on a kid I've heard. Why every time her mom gets on the phone with me, Claralynne lets me hear her mighty screa...... I'm mean singing voice!!

My girl had her bases covered. She did what she was supposed to in the order needed to hold off on having another child. I think the only explanation for it is that this cutey pie really wanted to come earlier than later. If the birth control had gone into full force, what with that we read online about how difficult it can be to "get" pregnant after using Depo, this baby might not have had a chance to get here for years. (That's if we actually do, as spirits, get to pick when we come here.)

Maybe a baby is just the consequence of sex!

Mee mee calls

I had just gotten off the phone from Aub who called me at work and one of the nurses said to me, "Your grandbaby called three times". I said, "what?" and she said, "yeah, the phone rang and I answered but no one was there, then it did it again. Finally your daughter took the phone and said, "sorry, Clara was just trying to call her grammy".

Too Cute

Snobbery

I'm beginning to believe that I'm just not the friendliest person around. I thought it was just that I don't know how to talk to people, but after working yesterday with another nurse whom I look at as a jabberbox, I think maybe I'm just a snob, or that I really don't like people in general. I get along with animals just fine. They don't talk. (with words), don't judge, are forgiving, unconditional, show their affection only after you earn it. I don't know.

Yesterday was the third day of me being unit secretary and I charged the floor for two of those days. I kept noticing that I was in a crappy mood. Then I started to look at the people that I work with and noticed that I find I don't "like" most of them for one reason or another. This one talks too much, that one is lazy, this one is 22 years old, acts like she knows everything and amazingly enough, has the older nurses actually "listening" to her and taking her seriously. I just think of her as a "silly girl". This one is always bragging about his daughter, that one is a perpetual flirt, this one is a liar and covers it up with humor. I don't know. Don't other people see these flaws? Not that I'm flawless, I just don't understand how these flawed people are able to get others to listen to them. I think of myself as having some very interesting things happen in my life, but I find I get cut off in conversation, or just don't get listened to or taken seriously at all.

I have a hard time looking at people. I don't like to get too personal with strangers, even though they are people I work with all the time, I know how they talk behind others backs. Even the so-called "good" people do it. In fact, sometimes they are the worst for it. What makes a friendship? I don't do things with people I work with outside of work. I don't know anyone else outside of work. I don't attend church. I don't have contacts outside of my home except those from work. I guess, I avoid the idea of socializing too closely with people at work because I am a private person and don't want my life talked about at work amongst my peers. So I don't get too close to anyone there. There is this thing called "confidentiality" at work and I have seen time and time again how, even though this is a topic that is addressed EVERY YEAR at work for our patients confidentiality, it so often doesn't even get a second glance when talking amongst ourselves about those we work with.

That's why I'm so guarded. So, instead of making friends, I look at people and hear how they talk to and about each other and avoid those type conversations. So I stay in this little "alone" box always hoping that the shell will break and I'll open up. Maybe it's just that I've been hurt by people I've deemed closest to me and so I don't venture out at all.

A Poem Written by My Daughter Aubrey

Aub wrote me this poem a long time ago and I had it hung on my wall by the computer along with the pictures I took of Soda and Me for a class assignment in my photography class. The assignment was self portrait.

Dedicated to Mother
By Aubrey Jeppson (Hatch)

there is a dog in my bed
resting peacfully on my head
in the morning I'll be dead
smothered lovingly
by the dog
resting peacfully on my head
in my bed
he sleeps till morning
when he will be fed
but who will feed him
if I lay dead
smothered lovingly
by the dog
who rested peacfully in my bed
on my head
now I am dead
and he waits patiently to be fed

Lonely House

Someday the hole will fill.

I'll feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and smell the wind and not get so choked up. There's so much beauty out here. Not a day goes by that I don't think how lucky I am to be driving along a road so full of pine, elk out in pastures grazing, coyotes calling to one another, and the little bunnies that dodge the cars at night. How many people live in such a place as this?

Soda loved it too. He liked the freedom of being outside to sniff around as he liked. Someone said he went out to find a female, and that could be true, but I think he went out for many of the same reasons I do.

I've called a few people to tell them. My sister cried. I didn't think she'd get choked up since she was one of them that kind of made fun of me when I went ballistic another time when Soda went missing. It was Nate's 40th "surprise" birthday party. Soda was no where to be found. I had arranged for people to pop out for Nate and stuff like that and I ended up going all over our neighborhood in the night calling for my dog. It turned out he had followed me into the storage room in the basement when I went to get wrapping paper and I shut the door with him still in the storage room. Lori made fun of me because I was so upset.

He had a habit of taking off for hours, only this time he didn't come back. I knew that it wasn't that he didn't come back, it was that he couldn't come back.

I prayed that if someone had him that they would be honest and take him to a vet or shelter to have him scanned. Then I just prayed that if someone knew where he was that they be honest. I was given an answer to this prayer.

I don't think of much else around this house. So much reminds me of my puppy. I read other peoples blogs and wonder if I'll ever be able to blog about something humorous, or witty, or about something that just makes me laugh.

I am a journal writer, not a blogger, so this tends to be more journalistic. I keep feeling like I'm supposed to write for someone elses benefit. But I can't. I keep thinking I should be less sad and move on.....but I can't. I keep feeling as if someone would read this and say....."OMG, it's just a dog!!!". But he wasn't "just a dog" to me.

The house feels empty. I'm afraid to brush the stairs with the new hair remover brush because once the dog hair is gone, there won't be more to clean up ever again.

It's so final. I so want to see him again. I want to hold him and cuddle him and feel the soft spots behind his ears. I was looking forward to smelling his newly washed coat, it had only been a day since his bath and I worked so I didn't get to hug him while he smelled clean and fresh.

He was like one of my kids. My kids even know he was like one of the kids. I've called him "your brother" to Whit a few times. He didn't appreciate it.

A Mournful Day

It's 7:o2 right now on October the 6th, 2007.

I prayed last night that I would get some sign or be told where Soda was, and in my dream I heard ...........He is not in your area...........

I didn't know if that meant he had gone as far away as Colorado Springs or Castle Rock or what. I know now that it meant he has left this earth.

We just buried our puppy. Someone called us this morning saying they saw the sign we put up in Larkspur and gave us the exact location where to find him. We hurried into the car to see if it was him......... and it was. My heart was racing as we went to see if it was Soda. I didn't want it to be him, but I also wanted an end to the worry and wonder about where he was, if he was with someone or if he had been hit. Since he's been gone we've been up and down that road looking for him, everyone of us looking for several days and none of us has seen him. A lady came out of her driveway which is directly on the other side of the road where his body was and she said she's not seen his body there for the last three days. We feel that the person that called to tell us where to find the body may have been the one to have hit him and placed the body where we would be able to find him.

I'm not mad at them, Soda left when it was dark. He's black and would be near to invisible on a dark road in the night. When I've taken him running with me along this same road I've had a devil of a time getting him to stay on my right on the dirt edge of the road. I would stop jogging just to make a point of teaching. He didn't ever understand the danger of a car. I finally stopped taking him on my jogs afraid he would get hit.

He did any way.

We've had him for about 8 years and got him when he was about 2 months old, just three days after the death of our other dog Zacharia Rufus. Zach was a Schnauzer and belonged more to Nate than to me or anyone else.

I think that's why when we got Soda I went out of my way to bond with him. Whit and Heather came here to Colorado to spend the summer with Grandma and Grandpa. So I took advantage of the special time between me and my new puppy. I bathed Soda and loved him up hoping he would become mine. He wasn't really MY dog per se, he was our family dog, but I think everyone in our family will agree who he looked to as his "head human".

So many things remind me of him. Just coming into the door is a reminder as I take care not to open it too fast or with too much force for fear of hitting him in the head. That habit will take time to change. I will miss him before I go to work as he was my companion and kept me from being lonely that early in the morning. I will miss him jumping up on the bed eager to share in the licorice crows Nate and I would eat while watching a movie. I will miss his hair all over the carpet and stairs, his hunching so as not to pee when he gets too excited when I get home. I'll miss his funny screeching cry when the kids would run and hide and he would run from room to room looking for them yelping and screaming, everyone laughing their guts out. I'll miss playing ball and frisbee with him.

We buried him up on the land amidst pine trees and scrub oak. I put three balls, a can of room spray, some pictures and one of the signs we put up when he was lost. He loved to take walks with us and would run up ahead and then back to me and jump up on me, then he'd run up ahead and come back so excited and jump up on me again. It drove me nuts. But I'd love to have him back to take with me on walks and kiss my face stinky breath and all.

Aubrey asked me if we'lll get another dog. I don't want another one right now. I just want to remember him and all the wonderful things he was to me.

I hope there is a heaven where there is lots of green grass, frisbees and balls and most of all someone to love him as much as we do. We'll miss you Soda.

Soda Pop

Born Approx May 1999

Died Approx Oct 2nd 2007

Blogs on Dogs

It seems I've created a few blogs about someone elses dog, now it's about my own. My dog Soda decided to go for a jaunt on the night of the 2nd of October. He hasn't come back. This has been an ongoing thing with him to leave when let out at night, but he usually comes back. I would go ballistic when he'd been gone over a couple of hours, and the family kind of made fun of me for it. Maybe they know now how I have felt each time he has taken too much time outside. It's so vast out here. There are too many places for him to get lost, or bears could eat him, or he could get run over or stolen. My fear is that someone isn't honest and wants to keep him. He is cute, trained, sweet, loving. Everything a person could want in a dog. He has a microchip, but without the collar, I wonder if someone would take the time to have him checked for the chip.

My heart aches for my loss. He was my shadow 24/7. I'd get up early to go to work, he was up on his hind legs kissing me while I sat on the toilet. He'd lay on the floor of the bathroom while I showered and would lick the water off my legs when I'd get out......... Yeah, he was trying to help me get dry. He'd look forelorn when I left for work and would wait at the window for my return. He would sleep on my neck at night if I let him. His obsessions included any kind of ball you could throw for him and he never forgot where it was if it went under the couch he would take you to it. He loved it when you sprayed room spray. We could spray it and he'd hear it from upstairs, and run down to bite the canister. He wanted you to spray him in the face. But the one thing he loved the most was his shot put ball. He would push it around on the grass of our West Valley back yard. Our yard was tiered so he would push it down hill, then football hike it between his legs until he got it back on the top of the hill, then push it down again. His front teeth are worn down from that ball, as well as a little permanent pink spot on his snout from it.
We have video footage of him pushing it around in our back yard. I've let him play with it out here, but the ground is as much dirt as grass and he ends up throwing up from the inhaled dust.

His dish of food and water sit untouched in the kitchen. His racketballs and tennis balls rest in the little container on top of the woodburning stove. I check for his hair on the chair of my bedroom where he slept. I've looked all around the house for little pieces of hair to keep and smell to remind me of him. I was always picking up his black hair off the frontroom floor, he was always rolling around to scratch himself. We had just given him a flee bath the night before he left, that's why his collar was off. It was hanging on my treadmill to dry. If only I'd kept it on him after his bath, but it was wet and not letting the hair around his neck dry.

I can't think straight. My mind is bogged down with worry and sorrow. I keep feeling like others think I'm overreacting, but they don't know how much of a friend this loving dog was to me. He was unconditional. He would love me and kiss me and hug me all the time. Even when I was mad at him. He was always there, always ready for attention and love and ever willing to give it. Who wouldn't want a dog like that? That's why I think someone would keep him.

I have to go through the pictures I have and make some posters to put out. That is my plan today

Soda goes missing

I've tried three times to blog and I keep getting kicked out of this site. Maybe the subject matter was all wrong. Maybe I really just want to cry outloud in hopes it will help with the pain.

My dog is gone. I hate the word "dog" because it has been used to describe an ugly person or given as an insult to someone. He is my "friend".

He is the best dog I've ever had and I'm so sick with grief I can think of nothing else.

He took off after being let out before we went to bed and hasn't returned. We've put calls out to every pound, kennel, vet in the area. This place is so big, I can't imagine we will ever see him again.

We had given him a bath so we took off his collar to dry. The tags on the collar have his name and address on them. This is the only time he's been outside without the tags. He's been chipped but who knows if that will do any good.

I am so used to saving the last piece of my toast, or anything I eat for that matter, for him. He follows me everywhere, gets up with me before work, waits at the window for me when I return from work. Would sleep on top of me if he could. He hugs me, I mean really hugs me. Knows when I'm upset so he'll come be near me and always want my attention. I can't stand the thought of not having him around. I just don't know what to do.

I keep praying, but I feel nothing in return, not a sound of comfort or anything. So I think of my niece who lost her son to cancer, and I feel selfish for asking for help from god to return my dog when she wasn't granted to keep her son. But, I love Soda so much. I can't think of anything else. I don't even want to eat.

He left night before last. Today is the fourth of October, so he left the night of October 2nd.