The Anniversary

This day has been on my mind for a month now. I keep thinking back to last year and reading the blog posts I wrote and wondering how I’ve gotten to this point – a year without my Mina. I’ve been near tears for days just thinking back on this time last year …

I miss how secure she made me feel in our apartment. I always knew that no one could walk by on the sidewalk or come up the stairs without a warning from Mina. She was a good judge of people and canines and kept us safe from those she didn’t trust.

I miss knowing that she was always close by, even when I couldn’t see her I could feel her presence.

I miss her unconditional love and devotion and understanding. If you’ve never been close to a canine, you’re missing something really fantastic.

I miss Mina every time I walk in the door, knowing I won’t see her happy face and wagging tail. I miss her on trips to the winery, drives out to the country, road trips …

Sometimes I see her; a flash of a tail going by behind the couch, a glimpse of her face at the window when I come home from work, in the way some dogs greet me as if I’m their long-lost best friend when it’s the first time we’ve met …

I’m not sure what I’ll do today – maybe I’ll go for a drive or visit some interesting site to distract myself from revisiting that awful morning. I wish I could sit by the river in my hometown and watch it flow by on its way to the Gulf or sit at Green Key beach in the sun. The goal is not to sit in my apartment and relive this day last year and spend it grieving and crying. Mina gets very upset when I’m crying and sad and, as Tosca’s mom reminds me, she wouldn’t want me to spend the day that way.

Mostly I wish she was here for me to take care of because I miss being the light of her life.

Mina, taken by her Auntie Lolo not sure of date but that's a summer shave

So, this blog … I’ve been writing in Mina’s blog since April 23, 2009. That’s one year, six months, two weeks, and two days. I think it’s served its purpose well and we get quite a few visits from people looking for various information about canine lymphoma. It will stay here to serve that purpose but I’m not going to write here much more. Sometimes when I have a happy memory of Mina I’ll sit down to write it in her blog only to end up crying and feeling the weight of my loss. I don’t want our happy memories to always turn to tears. If, down the line, something comes up that I feel the need to write about, then I’ll do it but it’s time to let it sit.

Mina is happy and safe and warm and loved and having fun in heaven. Sometimes the miracle really does happen on the other side.

Summer 1997, on Mina's graduation day from basic training

All my love …

 

Letter to Mina’s Vet on 11.8.09

I sent this letter to one of Mina’s cancer vets, Dr. Smith, on Saturday, November 8, 2009. I’m posting it here mainly to remind myself of how badly Mina was doing in the last two days of her life. Why do I need this reminder? Because as the one year anniversary of her death gets closer I still find myself second-guessing that last, awful decision.

Dr. Smith was wonderful to us during her chemo and during her final visit. Mina was quite fond of him, too.

I thought you should know that Mina is living her final days. Our vet, Dr. Cliver, estimates she has about two weeks, but given the difficulty she has breathing and swallowing food, I don’t know that she has that long. Nothing at all stopped the progress of her cancer, including homeopathy from Dr. Charles Loops, and her lymph nodes are gigantic. Her sub-mandibular and mandibular nodes are so large now that they can be seen without touching, and they’re causing her a lot of discomfort.

Still, she’s keeping a pretty good attitude most days. Yesterday wasn’t a very good day, but she’s brighter today. The only things she’s taking now are her fish oil capsules, IMM Power, Prednisone, Metronidazole, and an occasional Tramadol for arthritis pain. The Pred, of course, keeps her appetite very high, but her food has to be soft and mushy. She gags whenever she tries to eat hard foods such as biscuits. We are lowering the dose of the Pred slowly, but Mina won’t live to be completely off it.

Mina is enjoying a wide variety of foods now. She’s had vegan meals of French toast, waffles, and her first entire slice of non-vegan cheese pizza, courtesy of a friend. She’s gained weight, but it doesn’t really matter now. Every day that she’s with me is a good day, and I will treasure these memories all of my life.

Thank you,
Sheryl Bottner

 

Customized by Mina

Sundays being what they are, a day to relax a bit and catch up on chores, meant that I was doing laundry yesterday. This is all stuff I’d have done when Mina was still with me, too, only with more walks outside. I did take a hike in the Manassas National Battlefield Park so my outdoor requirement was fulfilled.

It was while making the bed with fresh linens later on that I came across an old set of sheets that I’d bought while living in Arizona. They were part of my “getaway” stash of household goods that I needed to move across country to the National Capital Area. The bed linens were in great condition less than two years later when I adopted Miss Mina Bean.

Mina, as you’ve read in previous posts, was a wild puppy and she chewed everything she could get her teeth on – my niece’s toys, tablecloths, socks, crayons, paper napkins and towels, and bed linens. Mina never got over her love of chewing paper napkins and towels so I stopped using them and never kept a trash can in the bathroom. She’d raid that in a minute. In fact, the last time we were at Dad’s together (2008) he left some tissues on an end table and Mina spread them all over the family room while we were out at dinner. She thought it was great fun!

Anyway … I still have a few sets of sheets left over from our early days together. They’ve all been “customized” by Mina, which means they all have holes chewed through them. One set has a hole big enough to put my foot through and at the top another hole that’s caught my arm a time or two. I no longer use that one but I keep it because it’s something that Mina did; tangible proof that she was once a puppy who loved chewing almost as much as she loved me.

This comforter met a violent end

There’s also a blanket that’s a few years old that Mina loved to lay on while chewing rawhide bones. That stuff never comes out in the wash. The rawhide bits are still on the blanket, many years and washings later. We used the blanket to cover the plastic sheeting on the couch in her final days and it’s now retired to the top of the bedroom closet, as is the comforter that used to be on the bed. Mina spent a lot of time on those two pieces of cotton and since I can’t bear to wash them, they are retired from use.

In two weeks it’ll be a year since Mina died. I’m sure there are a lot of people who think it’s odd or unhealthy or whatever that I still have her toys and bowls and leash and other stuff out where she left it. I simply cannot bear to remove these physical vestiges of her life; of our lives together.

Mina relaxing by Dad's pool

You are always with me, Mina … always.

 

Sundays Were Our Days

**First posted on December 6, 2009 and I remembered it while sitting here, eating French toast, and thinking of my baby girl**

Four weeks have passed since Mina and I spent our last, fine day together. I think my friend Lisa is right about that day; it was Mina’s final gift to me. It was a beautiful, sunny warm day; Mina had more energy than she’d had in a couple of weeks, we had French toast for breakfast, she took naps while I did laundry, we watched TCM movies, we took another nice walk, it was a normal Sunday for us.

Today is not warm, though it promises to be sunny, and there’s ice covering the parking lot and our car. It’s very cold, in the 20s, and the snow that fell yesterday is hard and crusty. Mina would’ve been so disappointed to find crusty snow and hard ice this morning, although she loved winter weather. Cold temperatures put perk in Mina’s step as she carefully guided me through the icy parts, looking back to make sure I was following and not falling.

Mina was born in upstate New York in October, so perhaps that’s why she always preferred cold weather to hot weather? I’ve read that Wheaties tend to enjoy colder temps more, and that was certainly true as Mina got older. Her last favorite spot to nap was on the tile entry way, or in front of the living room windows.

Those windows are smeared with “nose marks” left by Mina as she spent time watching the sidewalk below. The nose marks stay. I swear whenever I leave this apartment that I’m taking those panes of glass with me. The window sill below is scratched from Mina’s nails because when something really exciting happened outside, she stood on the windowsill with her front paws and barked her big-dog bark.

Mina at her station, keeping me safe

During the summer I changed my volunteer days at the sanctuary to Sundays because they need more help that day. I didn’t go out to the sanctuary that often after Mina’s cancer diagnosis in April, but I wonder if she resented the occasional loss of our slow Sundays together? I hope not because it was a needed respite for me, a necessary recharging of my spirit that enabled me to get through the difficult emotional roller coaster of chemotherapy. Trust me, I made it up to her by spending the afternoon and evening in complete devotion to She Who Owns My Heart.

Typically, we got outside for Mina’s first walk of the day around 5:30-6:00 a.m., depending on the season. We went out earlier in the summer months and later in winter because I needed to see the sun, if possible. After our walk it was time for breakfast! Mina always got fresh water and a clean food bowl filled with whatever she was eating at the time, and a treat from the box kept on top of the refrigerator. Next, she got whatever supplements and medications she was taking, always wrapped in a peanut butter coating. I think Mina loved peanut butter more than I do!

Sundays were my big breakfast day, too. I made all sorts of yummy treats on Sundays, and when I sat at my desk to eat in front of the computer Mina was right there next to me, waiting for her portion of the goodies. It was hard during the chemo weeks because she wasn’t supposed to have sugar or lots of carbohydrates, but she always got my last bite, no matter the rules.

We passed the rest of the day taking walks outside, visiting whomever was working in the leasing office, doing mundane household chores, watching old movies, taking naps, getting long belly rubs, lots of hugs and tons of kisses. Mina couldn’t take a nap in peace without me coming over to rub her belly and kiss her sweet, sweet face. Sometimes she’d thump her tail against the floor or couch when I approached and I lived for that tail thump. I don’t know why, exactly, but it pleased me no end to see her tail wag even when her eyes were closed.

I will miss her every moment of the rest my life, but especially on Sundays.

Mina, my sweet baby girl, I love you, I love you, I love you

 

If I Could Only Kiss Your Face

That’s the thought I go to sleep with and the thought I wake up to, every day of these 11 months since Mina’s been gone.

This week has been rough, thinking about last year and how we were spending our last month together, something I knew but couldn’t quite believe. I went to my office at work just nine days in October 2009. Mina needed me at home and I needed to be at home with Mina. I knew then how precious every minute was with her and I wish I had them all back.

Me and the Bean, February 1997

So, I’ll go to the sanctuary this morning and help the other animals because I can no longer help my Mina Bean. She’s happy and healthy and enjoying a life I can only imagine – no sadness, only joy and peace. Mina deserves that after spending her entire life dealing with me and our nomadic life. Hell, she deserves to be Queen of Heaven for putting up with my crap!

How has it been nearly a year? And how many long years before we see each other again?

I talk to her all the time – when I leave our home, when I return, and sometimes I find myself talking to her as if she were here and just as normal as can be. I always talk to her before I go to bed and sometimes I cry. I know she listens with that look on her face that seemed to say “I get it, Mom, and if you’ll just rub my tummy it’ll be OK.”

Mina’s birthday is tomorrow on 10.10.10. Binary code, my friend Pepromene reminds me. Mina was born 14 years ago, the best day of my life (even though I was unaware at the time).

I miss you my sweet little fur face. I miss you as much as I love you. I will love you always.

 

More Than A Feeling

When you watch the video linked below then you’ll understand why I ripped off the title of an old Boston song for this post. Trust!

My friend Colleen posted this video to her Facebook page and I watched it this morning. I had tears welling in my eyes and I cheered at the amazing canines featured in the vid. I love canines. I love them more than human animals and, if you’re a dog lover, you understand why.

I dearly wish I’d been able to afford video equipment when Mina was young and spry. That was back in the late 1990s and if you remember what a video camera looked like then, and what it cost, then you’ll understand why there are so few home movies of that era. The things were huge and the quality was pretty much crap.

Mina running in the water at a Denver dog park, 1999

Mina would’ve been a star in her own video production, that’s for sure! She could run like a gazelle and turn corners on two legs, I swear. She wasn’t much for playing “fetch,” though, unless you played her version which was throwing the ball far so she could chase it down, then running to her to so she could drop it in your hand and throw it again. Really, when I look back on those early morning ball sessions on empty golf courses and yards, it was Mina’s way of getting me to move my butt. Clever, so very clever, my little girl …

Watch the video, it’ll make you smile, and pay attention to the message at the end. There’s simply no excuse to buy a dog from a breeder when shelters are overflowing with wonderful canine friends.

Dogwork.com Video: More Than a Feeling

 

Come To BOW and Support GulfAid!

OK, this is a little off the beaten track for Mina’s blog, but we’re hosting an event at Barrel Oak Winery in Delaplane, Virginia on Sunday, August 15 from 1-5 p.m. Please come and bring the kids and fur kids because BOW is a very kid- and dog-friendly place. Mina loved visiting BOW, loved it. We started going there about two weeks after they opened and she’d have run of the place. It was a lot busier during her last visit on her 13th birthday, October 10, 2009, but she managed to last for about three hours before laying down under the table.

So come out and have some wine and support a cause that will help the people and wildlife of the oil-damaged Gulf Coast!

 

The Nine-Month Griefiversary

2004-05, my happy girl with her "summer shave"

It’s impossible not to think of the last time I saw Mina when this day comes around. I always cry, I always berate myself for not being a better companion to her, for not saving her from the cancer. Then I look at her pictures and see her beautiful brown eyes and playful expressions and realize that Mina holds no grudges against me; she never did.

I still run into people who want to know when I’m going to adopt again. When I tell them I will never adopt another canine, they don’t seem to believe me. The difference is that now I don’t find that as frustrating as I once did. It’s their problem, not mine. I’m comfortable with my decision even if I’m still not comfortable living all by myself without Mina.

So, I was thinking about her a lot yesterday as I drove down to our vet’s office for the first time since the day after she died. I went to deliver some fliers for an event I’m planning and looked forward to seeing her vets. But, they weren’t there and the staff on hand didn’t know me so I dropped off my fliers and left. It didn’t make me sad to walk in there, it made me kinda glad that Mina never has to go to the vet again. I’m pretty sure heaven is full of veterinarians but I’m also sure they’re out of business.

Y’know what the genius is of canines? Their ability to live so companionably with humans. No other species has had much success living with us because we mostly kill and eat them or destroy their habitats so that they become extinct, but canines have figured it out. Mina’s genius was learning how to live with me, something no human has ever mastered. She took care of me for years and years and when it was my turn to take care of her, she made the transition easily while I struggled with learning to take care of a cancer patient. Mina is brilliant.

In a couple of weeks I’m driving down home again to visit my Dad. I hope Mina will ride along with me because this will be a much better trip than the one in December. I’m gonna stop at rest areas and greet any dogs who are stopping with their people because that’s what Mina would do, and I’m going to remember the feeling of her head on my shoulder as she catches the breeze from my open window …

s.

 

Working Out With Mina

OK, so the title of this post is somewhat misleading as Mina and I never worked out together. Well, not unless you count her several daily walks around whatever neighborhood we lived in, which were more like sniffing expeditions and social outings than workouts.

I’m talking about my many years of chasing fitness through home workouts and, for a brief time before injury sidelined me, running. Even now, when I’m doing something in the P90X catalog that requires me to be on the floor for a bit, I remember when Mina was younger and how she used those parts of the workout to try and get my attention.

My workouts were done after I got home from work and had taken Mina for her first evening walk and given her dinner. Then she’d sit nearby, but out of the way, and sort of watch my crazy routines. Mina would wander over and sit as close to me as she could manage as soon as it was time for ab work or stretching. I recall many times when she’d position herself so that I could pet her on my way down from a sitting crunch, or something. It makes me smile now but at the time I wasn’t as charmed.

Mina wasted no time once the final stretching routine was complete to find the sweatiest place on my body, usually my neck and hairline, and attempt to clean the salty sweat off me. I always appreciated her attentiveness to my hygiene; Mina was keenly interested in me when I smelled bad.

I treasure these memories when they pop into my head and that’s where these blog posts come from, really. I’m keeping them where I can read them and remember them always. I miss my girl. I miss her every single day. We still talk, or more truthfully, I still talk to her and I imagine Mina in her heaven listening to me with that wise look in her eyes, or even giving me the side-eye when she thought I was off my rocker.

Love you love you love you, sweetie girl

 

Dreaming

I don’t often remember my dreams exactly, mostly impressions or feelings, so it’s a rare treat to wake up remembering one that featured my Mina Bean.

It was so ordinary, just an evening (or a day, I couldn’t tell) at home with Mina napping in front of the living room window, and me sitting on the couch watching an old movie. We did that a lot on Sundays and on many days in her end stage illness. It seemed so normal, felt so comfortable that I wasn’t so disappointed when it was over, a little wistful, but happy that Mina showed up in her usual place. That dream is the best thing that’s happened to me in days.

Resting