Surprised by Love

For the record, I am not, nor have I ever been, an animal person. I don't like them. I will tolerate ones that serve a purpose, but I've never been one to just want some stinky animal sharing my space.

This is one area in which Mark and I are very similar. He loves horses, and farm animals in general are OK (again, they're functional). But dogs, cats, and such? No thanks.

We got our Nubian Dairy goats to serve a purpose: give us fresh, raw milk that is good for our bodies. We got two to start with, and their babies. Masayla was sweet and smart, and did everything asked of her. Madeena was NOT getting on that milk stand and for two weeks, Mark was the only one that could milk her. He said so many times that if it weren't for the fact that she gave double the milk of Masayla... well, you know.

Finally, she calmed down, and became our favorite goat. She has this crazy look she gives you, and you just want to laugh. Suddenly, I realized that for the first time ever, I LIKE an animal. Not only for her function, but just for her.

It wasn't long before I officially loved all my goats. Not other people's, only mine. In the last several years, we've had more than a couple of goats die, and I found myself crying real tears, the big ol' alligator kind. Weird.

Then last January, our kids somehow wore us down and I found myself at the animal shelter, potentially adopting a dog. We went to "meet" this skinny, pitiful, one year old Boxer. She was house trained and patient with the kids, so she appeared to be the right choice.

I remember the day we took her into the bonding room, and I knelt down and put my hand out. She politely put her paw in my hand and then proceeded to lay her chin on my knee. That was that. Her new name was Sasha, and she was ours, pending her sterilization surgery.

A week later, we brought her home. She had just come out of surgery and was pitiful. She also had a bad case of kennel cough and had thick green snot pouring out of her nose. Because I'm totally OCD, and dog snot on any surface of my house would totally wig me out, I followed this dog every step she took for nearly a week with Kleenex. She mistakenly took my OCD as caring, and decided that I was her Mama.

And because of her sickness, and the fact that it was January, we couldn't turn her outside. A dog. Inside my house. Taking rides in the van. Sometimes even laying in my LAP. Apparently, she didn't get the memo: I don't like dogs.

As you have probably guessed by now, Sasha became a member of the family. She let Sam crawl all over her, she was calm and gentle, and it was obvious that she loved us. So now, I like a dog. The only dog I've ever liked. I still hate other people's dogs, but I love my Sasha.

Which makes what I'm about to say so heartbreaking, for me anyway. Sasha was hit by a car and killed on Friday. Mark's aunt told him that she saw the city workers getting a dog off the road, and it looked a lot like Sasha. Just in case it wasn't her, I kept getting up that night to see if maybe she had come back home. She didn't. The last pile of food I poured for her remained untouched. Which meant that I had to tell the kids on Saturday. It wasn't pretty.

And yet, within an hour of telling them, they wanted to get on the Humane Society website to look at adoptable dogs! Apparently, the kids snap back faster than me. I can still see Sasha's big soulful eyes gazing up at me, her little nub of a tail wagging. I even dreamed about her last night, that Lia had gone outside to play, and when she came back in, Sasha was with her. Her absence is so very obvious.

I did take them to the shelter to handle some dogs, thinking it would ease their pain. They picked out the biggest, fluffiest, sweetest (UN-house trained) puppy that Mark won't let us get. Whew. I would've caved for sure. I mean, the little thing put his face right in my neck. He literally snuggled me. I'm sure we will get another dog, but not right in the middle of a move.

So we came home without a new dog. As I was turning onto my road, Mark called. I had him on the phone, and I could see a truck coming down my driveway as I approached. I had to stop to let them turn out so I could turn in. As they passed, I caught a glimpse of goats. During all this, Mark explained to me that he'd sold them all. All as in ALL. As in even Madeena.

He and I had been discussing the possibility of selling them all if we found the right owners, and starting over next Spring. That would give us time to build fences and such at the new place, which we won't even get into until early fall. Keeping them over the next six to eight months was going to be a huge challenge. So yes, we'd discussed it.

But it was so sudden. I didn't get to say goodbye to Madeena, which breaks my heart. Irrationally, I feel guilty for that. And after just losing Sasha the day before, I went to bed last night feeling completely drained on an emotional level.

So many changes going on right now, and the only ones that make me sad have to do with animals. Go figure.

Leaving you with a few pictures of our Sasha.

Just after we got her. She still looks so sad.

Lying in the sun that comes into the playroom mid-morning.

Rachie loves Sasha

Blessings,
Em