Ruby Dog ... My Angel Dog ...

My apologies for coming out of my writing lapse with a post that is a sad one.

Ruby, my beautiful, smart, loving angel dog, passed into spirit on Friday, November 16 after the rather sudden onset of paralysis with its accompanying desperation, and with a shutdown of her complete digestive tract. A week before this, she had intermittently worn a facial expression of "I need your attention" and I'd check and see if she needed anything. Then she had a brief playful streak and tossed around her tennis balls that had been ignored for months. In retrospect it seems to me that it was the rally that often happens with animals and with people who are on the verge of a serious happening. Well, when it was clear to me that we were in a scary zone, I called a mobile vet and made an appointment for the next day. The vet was very knowledgeable, thorough, gentle, and kind and was recommended to me by my own vet.  

Ruby ... at about six weeks away from her 11th birthday ... was suffering and her face wore a worried, pleading expression. The vet and I helped her to lie down and the sedative helped her to relax ... and the pained look left her face. I sang to her all the while ... the song "Ruby ... you're like a dream..." from the movie Ruby Gentry ... and I petted her. I'm going to back-pedal slightly here to tell you that Ruby has always loved to hear music and my singing ... and would appear from wherever else she'd been in the house and lie down in front of my amplifier or the stereo. So on Thursday night I played a blues CD that a Knoxville harmonica player had given me a few years back ... it has several old blues tunes done by great blues players and singers; Ruby actually was smiling, as I played the whole album twice in a row.  

So on Friday afternoon, my beautiful angel dog, who had earned her service vest and, who had, previous  to when I met her at the shelter, won her battle with heartworm, and then gotten adopted at age 8, will ceremoniously be gone.

I think of her as a hero, as well as the most loving, intelligent, sweet dog I've ever known. I keep thinking I still see her, still hear her walking down the hall. Tomorrow, in keeping with my beliefs on waiting until the third day before doing cremation, her spirit should be flying free and, in truth, be with me in so many ways. This Thanksgiving I will feel thanks for the almost three years I was privileged to be mom to this awesome dog. And so, through my tears, I'll close with these words for her.

"God bless you, Ruby, Ruby Dog, Rubinski. Mommy  loves you and misses you; misses your beautiful face, expressive eyes and pointed ears, your long luxurious tail, your very silky cuddly self, the way you love to shake hands ... and your interesting baritone/basso bark and occasional growl. Watch for me ... and when I come we'll be together again." 


      

"They Say Ruby You're Like A Dream" (song title from movie)

As I look around my house, I see the photographs of my pre-Dixie dogs ... some of whom resided in Connecticut with me, one that bravely traveled in my truck with me and a bunch of household items during my move from Connecticut to Knoxville in October of 1986, and several other wonderful dogs that I acquired after I got settled in at my first Knoxville house. Their framed pictures were carefully preserved in moving boxes in 2004 when I moved from one side of Knoxville to another, twice. In the days and weeks after Dixie passed into spirit, I took comfort in getting the dog photos out and putting them where others and I can see them. Faith Rose "Rosie" is looking down at me right now from the wall above my computer ... she's in a reddish brown frame (to match her poodle hair color).  I'll have to get the picture scanned so I can put it in the computer (she's sitting in the 1974 Ford Courier pickup truck that made the move).  

I had some multi-faceted talks with myself about whether to have another dog ... and "when" the time might be right. I found myself sitting on the benches in the park Dixie and I had frequented ... and I would sort of "borrow" people's dogs as they walked by. Petting a dog is such a soothing, spiritual experience.   

During the second week of May I saw an ad in the Bargain Mart featuring some of the dogs at Young-Williams Animal Center (Knoxville and Knox County's animal shelter). One of the faces peered out at me and I went to the main facility to see if she was still there. Yes, and the staff told me the sad story about her past.  No wonder she hardly would look at me in the "get acquainted room".  I kept talking to her in soft tones and petting her. She was at the shelter for a second lengthy time, after being confiscated from her first owner and then brought back in by her next owner. She was suffering from heartworm. Some kind soul had paid the money for her treatment (expensive) and her adoption.  God bless the person or persons who saved her! Her fur was growing back in at the two shaved sites of the medicine injections. The Shelter staff was fond of this 90 or so-pound dog and coddled her, though no adopter was choosing her. Probably it was a combination of her size, age (8 years), color (black dogs are the last ones to be adopted for some nutty reason), her heartworm recovery process, and what seemed to me to be her trust issues.  I took a leap of faith and filled out the adoption papers.

A trip to the pet supply store yielded toys, leash, collar, and dog food. Next day I went back and got her. She was  happy to get into my truck and seemed right at home lounging in the back seat. The first several weeks were rigorous for me because I had to leash-walk her around my hilly yard to keep her physical activity minimal (until the safe-date had been reached regarding her heartworm treatment recovery). Once June arrived, this sweet dog could safely walk and run off-leash in our fenced-in backyard and everything got much easier for me. Her personality has blossomed and bloomed!  She is very affectionate, very smart, and IMO very beautiful.   

I would like to introduce to my readers my awesome, wonderful girl -- her name is Ruby.    

Beauty -- a sad, desperate, sweet little girl ...

Dear Readers,
I know that at this time of year, we try to wrap our minds and hearts around joy, celebration, and loved ones.  Especially this year, with all the scary things that are going on in our country and throughout the world, it is important to focus on good things.  And sometimes it is necessary to look squarely at something bad in order to help make some good and right come of it.

In the news today there is an extensive article (and I did some follow-up on it) about a Nashville woman who was arrested after animal control investigators said she  had taken a severely malnourished and neglected dog (neglected is not a strong enough word) to a veterinarian to be euthanized.  She had put this sweet dog out in the yard in the elements (apparently there was no escape route) without food or water, for an extended amount of time. The pictures of the dog indicated to me that the time involved weeks or probably months and had reached the point where the woman could see that the dog was near death; the investigation revealed that she had done this before with another dog -- intentionally starved it to death.  Meanwhile, inside her house, there is another dog who is apparently well-fed and healthy. Economics are not an issue.  To me, this is a case of intentional (sick and demented) cruelty. The vet's office was horrified and upset at the sight and condition of the dog and the vet and staff determined that the poor dog was too far gone (her systems were shut down) to save ... so she was humanely euthanized. The vet's hands on this innocent helpless living being during the exam and euthanasia process may well have been the only tenderness she had ever been shown.  A name for the dog is not mentioned anywhere that I could find, so I am naming her Beauty.  

Please, if you care that this happened to Beauty, whisper her name in your prayers and make a memorial donation in her name to the animal rescue group of your choice.  If you don't have a favorite, there are many listed on my animal ministry blog at http://animalministry.blogspot.com. 

The dog's owner has been  charged with animal cruelty. Her bond was set at a mere $2,500. I think she definitely should do jail time and should not be allowed to own any other animals.

You can read more about the case at http://www.wsmv.com/story/30758834/woman-accused-of-animal-cruelty-after-taking-malnourished-dog-to-vet#ixzz3uXq1WXcO.

Thanks ...
Clara

Saturday Journey To The Park in Threesome –

Today my daughter, the lovely Shara, drove down from Maggie Valley, NC to visit with me. I’m always ecstatic when she comes because we get a chance to girl-talk, shop, sip cups of tea, and go to lunch. We did those things today. And – we decided to drive to the park and do some walking. We didn’t want to disappoint Dixie Lee, my dog (see photographs of), so decided to take her along with us. The only wrinkle in the plan was the need to fit an 80-pound dog who is accustomed to riding with a seat belt wrapped around her, along with Shara and me, in the 2-seater cab of my truck. I was the driver; Shara had to wedge herself in the middle of the seat of the vehicle, somehow co-existing with a five-speed floor-shift. It was a comic and amusing ride, really a lot of fun. Our walk was great and there were a number of other people in the park with their dogs. When we ran out of steam, we carefully loaded ourselves back into my truck and drove back home. Along the way, Shara athletically managed to snap a picture of herself with my cell phone, next to Dixie Lee, who, by that time, was slightly drooling. What a great day that came to an end too soon, as always, as the hands of the clock spun around. And, as always, I waved goodbye and shed tears, as I watched Shara’s car drive out of sight on her journey home.

Dixie Lee's Baseball

One of my dog’s favorite places to walk is in the North Winston park in West Knoxville. On a recent visit there, we came upon a bunch of empty water and soda bottles that had been tossed over a fairly large area in back of the baseball diamond. I’m tempted here to say some choice words about people who litter, but quite honestly, people who litter don’t have the intelligence, curiosity, and ambition to read a blog, much less a liberal blog, so I’ll just continue with my story. Standing aghast at the sight of the bottle mess, I mumbled an apology to Dixie Lee and we started to walk past the area. Then my gaze fell upon a yellowed, dirty but otherwise fine, baseball. Apparently, it had been left in the fervor of exiting the baseball game. I picked it up and stuffed it into my jacket pocket. "We’ll take this home as a souvenir of our walk today, Dixie", I said. (I’m a great sentimentalist, as you probably know if you’ve been reading other portions of my blog).

That evening, Dixie picked up the baseball and carried it up the stairs to the loft where she likes to hang out and play. She has a collection of favorite toys there. I was very surprised that she could carry the heavy ball in her mouth. Suddenly, there was a loud noise ... once, twice, many times ... as she’d pick up the baseball and hurl it into the air, letting it land with a loud thud on the wood floor upstairs. Since that evening, it’s become a nightly ritual to do that and she’s all but abandoned her other toys. I’ve become accustomed to and even delighted by the happy noise of her play. So far, the floor has been forgiving. Well, this is an old house and well-constructed. And Dixie Lee loves her baseball!

How About Something Frivolous (amid all this serious stuff)!

Where’s the showbiz glitz? Or the inspiring message about Spring’s arrival? Or an amusing anecdote about my dog ... or some music news? Okay, yes, nothing makes my typing and piano fingers sing (actually, I guess what they do is more like a dance) as do these, my favorite topics.

Right now, Spring is on my mind and in my heart; I feel more optimistic and energized at this time of year than any other. I rather like the early daylight savings time, too.

Musically speaking, I’m looking forward to doing the outdoor gigs and need to be making my calls this week. I spoke fondly of sequins and glitz in an earlier post; they are (a treasured) part of the past. In these contemporary times, gig-wear is geared for comfort. Well, it needs to be, as we pack, carry in and out, set up, and break down so much equipment. But it’s all worth it for the joy of playing music.

Dixie, my dog, loves the extra daylight we have now. During each November, she develops the same winter seasonal funk I get, so she and I are on the same wave-length and get revitalized in March! She’s playing with her toys again and fully enjoying our trips to the park. See pictures of Dixie and read about her on my personal website at http://claralandau.home.comcast.net, where you'll find three of my song clips and lots of pictures!

So, for a little while, shall we all take our minds off the candidates’ campaigning, tax time, the economy, the state of the world, the wars, the fears ... and pause to look out a window at the daffodils, blossoming saucer magnolias, forsythias, flowering crabapple and wild cherry trees; even better would be a walk along a greenway, country lane, or city street, just to enjoy and welcome Spring. I’m even glad to see the dandelions – when I was a child, dandelion greens were our "salad vegetable" all season long and it was my job to go out and pick them (they’re very nutritious, but I haven’t eaten them since those childhood years). How wonderful it is that the seasons faithfully turn and turn and the renewing spirit of Spring visits us each year!