"He's been my friend for 7 years. I've been mourning him for the past three months," my sister Tia said to me when I called her at lunch. She was talking about her hound dog Marley Moose, who I have always called Bo-bo. Marley was a rescue from a shelter. When Tia and Matt picked him up, he had a few really big tell tale signs of abuse and neglect. Months of training and allowing Marley to trust again, led to a really wonderful relationship between dog and man.
Whenever I visited, He always remembered me and greeted me with wagging body and tail. I often played a game of chase with Marley around the center pillar of Tia's house. The living room, kitchen and dining room are all connected by doorways. I would run one way and Marley would chase me until he figured out that if he changed directions, he could often catch me and make me scream. He loved to scare me, he looked so mischievous. Sometimes, I arose early and sat on the back patio with Marley, watching birds or squirrels. He had an arch-nemesis squirrel at one point, who used to tease him crazy. One day Mr. Squirrel lost his temper with Marley and jumped down from his safe spot to scold our Marley. Marley made short work of that squirrel! Poor, stupid, dead squirrel.
Tia often called me on her runs with Marley. Her constant, "Good Boy!" or "No! Leave It!" were just part of the conversation.
In August, Marley started slowing his gait and had a hard time finishing their short walks. His shoulder seemed stiff and sore so that he didn't want to go outside or up and down the stairs. The vet said there was nothing that could be done, except to make him as comfortable as possible. Tia and Matt have been watching him decline. This afternoon Tia fed Marley four steaks and made his last day on earth as sweet as possible. Tonight, they said good-bye to Marley.
Pets are remarkable things. My family has always treated our animals as part of the family. My Didi cat has been giving me grief lately about how infrequently I sew at home these days. She rents her room out to me and allows me to sew there, as long as I feed her and give her loves. Brat.
Moncha cat has figured out a way to manipulate me so he can sleep in my armpit, even when I try to push him away.Again, Brat!
In just less than 100 days, this Triathlon will be over and I may get a chance to do something else besides run, bike, work, swim, eat and sleep--hopefully more of the latter...
We swam today. I swam for just shy of an hour. My warm up and cool down, plus: 15 straight laps, 12 laps with the figure 8 shaped floaty between my knees, and probably 20 laps with my snorkel flippers. The flippers taught me a lot about kicking, rolling and where my stroke should come from. Neat! Now I need sleep! Good night!
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