Why did I take a break from writing?
I’ve been asked why I stopped writing for a while.
The answer is simple: Blondie. Many of you will recognize her name in many of these blog posts. As someone who doesn’t have children, Blondie was my baby. I lost my baby this spring, way to soon and way too suddenly. I couldn’t bare to do a lot of things for a long while, especially things that I did while she was alive. Like writing this blog while she laid on my stomach. But I’m back now because no longer do I feel immense sadness when I write. Instead, I am reminded of the golden who wrote with me.
Her birthday just past and before I start back on my retirement talks, I thought it would be fitting to pay tribute to her:
My Dearest Blondie Beluga Fish
Today would be your 9th birthday. It’s taken me a long time to accept that you are gone.
Today, on what would have been your birthday, I pay tribute to one of my best friends.
We adopted you as a rescue in October 2008.
The family who originally adopted you said you were “too vicious”. To this day, I have no idea why they’d give you up. But I’m thankful they did. We met you on Tupac Lane in North Las Vegas. You were 4 months old. You ran around the yard with Kiwi, munched down some treats, and fell asleep in my arms. I looked at you asleep, looked at my husband, and knew you were ours. We took you home that night.
Our house was filled with new things. You saw yourself in the mirror for the first time and barked your reflection until you tired yourself out. The next day, you saw fire for the first time in our Keva oven. You barked at that too, in your high-pitched puppy yelp. As you grew, you reserved that high-pitch yelp for the squirrels you chased up trees.
When you were learning to be housebroken, I remember looking down at you from the loft. You were spread out on my white chaise, wagging your tail. Suddenly, a yellow pool emerged around you. I remember being so mad for only an instant and then you just kept wagging your tail and smiling. I could never stay mad at you. That smile and cuteness kept you out of trouble your whole life.
You loved to cuddle from the beginning.
I don’t know how many times we fell asleep together on the couch or in the bed. You were my favorite pillow. I can still remember what it’s like to lay on your belly and fall asleep to your breath. You’d cuddle with me no matter if I was tired, sad, happy. Even when I was sick, you’d follow me to the bathroom and lay next to me. You were so loyal and loving.
You travelled everywhere with us.
Together we visited the Grand Canyon, Zion, Lake Michigan, all throughout Colorado and Nevada, You rode in the car like a champ, sleeping for miles on end and then waking up to sneak closer to us. With you, there was no such thing as close enough. Every year we made the trek home from Colorado to Wisconsin. You loved it, knowing you’d get to lay next to us and then spend time with all your family.
You were a key part of my husbands proposal to me.
He attached a note to your collar. And you were the ring bearer in my wedding. You brought me the ring I still wear everyday. On our wedding day, you wore a tuxedo and snuck into every picture you possibly could. You loved the camera, so much that you were even featured on Buzzfeed as a top wedding dog.
Cancer took you way too early. You survived the surgery and met us with tail wags, even when you were high on pain meds. You died of a blood clot post-surgery. The last time I saw you I sang my bedtime song to you and you fell asleep next to me. I know you loved that Golden Girls theme song. You were so calm and comfortable.
I miss you.
And I will love you as long as there are stars in the sky and the Earth orbits the sun. You will forever be one of the greatest loves of my life.
To my sweet Luga Fish, happy birthday. I hope your day is filled with ice cubes, squirrels you can bark at, and peanut butter kongs.
I’m so happy you were our dog.