Trying Times

So, I had meant to keep this blog up like a good girl, but some things have happened recently that have made it hard.

My household has been cut drastically by things beyond my control - I lost both my dog Rowan  and old cat, Yowler, within a week of one another.  Both of them were getting on in years.  Rowan had been suffering from various health problems that started with disseminated Valley Fever roughly a year ago, and ran the gamut through weight loss, IBD, and bladder issues.  Yowler was quite old for a cat (17 years.) and was suffering from kidney failure. 

I miss them both immensely, though I was more prepared for Yowler's death since he was old, and had been suffering from kidney disease and high blood pressure for a few years. I do miss is weird antics.  He loved to sleep under the sheets, curled up in my armpit.   He liked to be patted on the rear roughly, and would yow loudly at me to be fed, or if I was too loud, or if he wanted out.  He also used to demand I have a regular bed time of 10:00pm.  If I wasn't in bed at that time, he would come bother me every half-hour with a plaintive "YOW, NOW" until I saw reason.


Rowan's death has hit me quite hard, and unexpected.  I wake mornings thinking I need to let him out, or expecting him to be beside me, waiting for me to stroke his nose, and am struck again and again with his absence.

Truthfully, Rowan was very special.  He made me really realize that I am, after all, a dog person.  I have loved all my other dogs, too, but thought I enjoyed cats for their independent nature (which is something of a lie, anyway, if you meet my cat Cleo.) I honestly and completely fell in love with Rowan when I first saw him up for adoption all those years ago.  His long face, large size, and the cute one-ear-up-one-ear-down that gave him a goofy, friendly look.  He was beautiful and lean, some sort of doberman mix.  I wanted that dog and no other.  I think his foster family and adoption agency was relived to see him homed - he had terrible manners, long legs that made him look vaguely horse-like, and weighed around 75 pounds.  I worked hard to train him  - he pulled me on walks, and ate out of the trashcan... but I loved him every minute.

I carry a locket now with his picture and a lock of his crazy black-brown-black hair.  I fear forgetting what he looked and felt like more than anything.  So far, I've been able to recall the texture of his fur and his nose and his huge paws in my dreams.  Those are wonderful and terrible dreams because I wake and there's still a Rowan-shaped hole.

I still have his things.  I know another dog will find me.  Maybe Rowan will send one my way.