Annie - every day - you are still with me :) I haven't forgotten you!

Annie, your daddy still misses you every day -  every day - I promised you, I would not forget - my heart will not let me forget you - little girl. I took the day off on your Anniversary of Going to Heaven - Sparky and I walked your favorite walk, this was the second Annual Annie's Walk. I watched the video of you on the trail - It's burned in my memory forever. You were so happy that day, your new knee was obviously working - your little excited panting of "what's next Daddy? Let's see what's around the next corner!".  Such a happy little dog :).

Your brother Sparky and your two pups (as I call them) Spike and Mae - all have such good lives - we just celebrated Mae's second birthday, Spikes 4th and the 8th Anniversary of Sparky's rescue - it also means that it's been two years since you've gone to heaven to wait for Daddy - which still shatters my existence. If it weren't for them, I would be with you now, Shawnee.  I miss you so much, I never knew that a human could love a pet as much as I love you Annie.  Never - I'm sure in the history of time, someone has been as devastated as me at losing a little loved and trusted friend.  I still feel crushed that I let you down Annie. I'm so sorry. I never would have given you that pork bone if I knew it would splinter like that and even more so, I would NEVER have taken you to the emergency vets - I still remember looking at your walking in, I think we both knew - "this is it" our final moments - but it wasn't is it? Everyday Peanut, your Daddy thinks about you - every day. People speak of losing children, I imagine it is something similar but the world reduces the care and love of a pet to lower level, little girl - if you were a human, I could not have loved you more. It's funny Annie, I used to call you "child" and "Daddy's little girl" - surely not pet names.  You were my baby - from the time I saw your picture on the rescue website - I made you a promise to give you the best life that I could and I did, even at the end, I don't know anyone that would have made that type of financial commitment to keep you alive and bring you back to me - I did and still ended WRONG - I remember screaming. "No, No - this is not how our story is supposed to end, No - No" and laying my entire body over your little one, as if to protect you, one last time. Your heart stopped beating - I heard a flat line, I felt it stop, a part of me died with you, little one. I miss you, Annie - every day. I pray that whatever is out there when we die, has been taking the BEST care of you and given you all of the love that I would and made you feel safe and happy and giving you all of the treats that you could want, especially your "chickee treats" .. the chicken jerky that Ampop would buy for you! You love that stuff :) 

A year ago today.....

My dearest little Annie, a year ago tonight - you suffered a horrible death. If only I could turn back time. Your Daddy was devastated, I now understand the stages of grief in a way I never have before Mae Mae, my Shawnee - Daddy's girl.  

Annie, Daddy is going to sound very selfish for admitting this but I have never loved a human being - as much as I loved and still love you. I find we humans are very selfish as a bunch, you little one just wanted to be loved. You were my best friend, my joy. This past year, I think Daddy spent a good part of it in shock - your death was so unexpected - an accident but in the end, I think it was malpractice.

Sweetheart, Daddy gave you a bone to celebrate Spike's 2nd birthday - and it splintered -  you had a bloody mouth - that didn't register with me - at 3:11am - the motion detector in the living room went off, I thought someone had broken in - I found vomit - in two places - and there you were, looking very afraid laying on your favorite chair. Something snapped in my brain and I knew you were VERY sick.  I called the ER vet immediately, got dressed and you were in the clinic in Annapolis by 4:00am. Before we got out of the car, I looked at you and you looked at me and Annie, I think we both knew that our story together was ending. I said to you, "should we do this?" You just looked at me with all of the trust and innocence in your little heart - and in we went. 

Annie, you walked in on your own, you were strong.. such a good girl walking with Daddy as we had thousands of times before. I had to sign a million forms and releases (my mistake) and off we go to an exam room - 4:11am we were in an exam room.  One hour from waking up to the sensors going off. The doctor came in, I explained what happened - she took you back - x-rayed you and brought you back to me, I should have walked out then and waited for Dr. Ruth to be free, your vet not these strangers that didn't care, you were a number to them. 

"Yes, Mr. Wagner - if you look at the x-rays you can see two major blockages, don't worry 98% of dogs pass blockages like this - we would like to keep her here for observation," again, my mistake Annie - I'm so sorry I left you there.  I put you in the little kennel, petted you and shut the door. My baby - that's the last time I saw you conscious. You were so peaceful and resigned when you saw that door close. You were in the middle of the bottom row, I think they forgot about you there, I'm sure they did. Also, I never thought of the year you spent in the rescue kennel - I only hope you didn't think Daddy was abandoning you to a life in a kennel. I know that year was a horror for you - I would never do that to you Fuzzy. I will never forget that young vet looking at me - standing there smiling kindly and saying, "She's in good hands, we'll take good care of her."

I called at noon Annie, you were doing fine - you had urinated, pooped and you were walking around on your own. That young vet was confident for a full recovery.  So what happened? Phone call at 4pm, "Mr. Wagner, she's taken a turn for the worse......" I knew then Annie, it was over. I asked if you could have surgery to take the blockages out, I rambled on.. "   The young vet responded - and yes, this is the same one that assured me that you were in good hand I'll pay anything - I don't care what it costs just PLEASE save her life...". " Well uh Mr. Wagner, I can't operate today - I'm leaving work early.. I have plans." I don't know what happened to my brain Annie, but something snapped in my head - I said very calmly, "there has got to be someone there to operate on her," he said, "she wouldn't survive surgery at this point, Mr. Wagner." I asked if I could come and see you. He said yes.  I thought me being there would lift your spirits - I didn't realize that they had you "sedated" and on oxygen with a saline IV pumping fluid into you. I asked him if they had give you anything for pain, he said "no, why would I do that?" I said something about intestinal blockages must be painful, he said he would give you something... what???

Before they let me in to see you, a vet came out to speak to me in the waiting room. Very calm, older - "Mr. Wagner, I need to prepare you - there's a good chance Annie won't make it through the night." Annie, Daddy has never felt so helpless - I asked what happened to the good prognosis.. she said, and I will never forget this.. "well, if we had given her fluids earlier, then maybe..." of course she was referring to while the young vet was in charge - again, my despair deepened as I this nightmare was becoming more real, more horrible - more sad - my own Greek tragedy in three acts. Annie, Daddy walked into where they had you - Peanut, you looked terrible - you had tubes, an IV, a heart monitor - and you looked so alone. I asked if I could take your picture, I knew it was the last picture that I would take of you alive. All because I had given you a bone for a treat to celebrate Spike's second birthday - unreal.

Time froze for Daddy, Annie. I can't even explain it, I was numb. Daddy doesn't pray anymore, Annie - I did that minute - for the first time in years, I knew you were going to die - at that point, I was resigned to it - your Daddy, the king of fighting hardship, injustice, the system, adversity - gave up - I knew we had lost the battle Annie, I think if I could turn back time - when I looked at you that last time in the parking lot, should have left - I remember thinking, every animal I had taken there had died - I thought you were going to be the exception - I am so sorry Annie. So - yes, Daddy prayed.  I prayed that you weren't aware of what was happening and that you weren't in pain and that you knew that I was there and loved you. I left, I leaned into the kennel, kissed you, told you that I loved you with all of my big heart and left, numb. 

I was home by seven pm, I'm not even sure what happened - I remember thinking that I hadn't eaten all day and should make some food,  I did - not sure what and I made a drink, a very strong drink. I sat on the couch and started to eat my food, it was 923pm, Annie - out of no where, it was like a faucet was turned on and blood poured from my nose - I have never had a nose bleed - I remember thinking - "something has happened to Annie...". I went into the kitchen, got the nose bleed to stop, I look outside and there are huge snowflakes falling - out of no where - huge snow flakes - I knew then, something had happened and this was the end.  I remember saying to myself that you were making all of this happen.. the nosebleed, the snow and thinking - "no, no, this is not how our story is supposed to end...." 

Then, the cell phone rang, the ER vet was calling - it was the older vet, the calm one.  In her calm voice - it was 936pm, Annie - she said to me, "Mr. Wagner, at 923, Annie had a cardiac arrest and is now breathing with assistance, I can bring her back if you want but honestly Mr. Wagner, that will only postpone the inevitable, I have seen this happen before....she's dying Mr. Wagner." Your Daddy very calmly said, "what are the options?" She told me that they could take you off the respirator and let you die or they could keep you alive until I got there. "Please, please keep her alive until I get there, the snow is falling hard, I will get here as fast as I can though." I hung up and screamed Annie. Daddy screamed so loud, I remember screaming "NO! NO! NO! This is not the way our story ends, Annie!!"  

I think I terrified Spike and Sparky - my boys.  They had known something was wrong, I knew they knew just by my behavior through out the day. Little one, the drive to Annapolis was like an out of body experience, truly - that storm had been unpredicted and the roads were in terrible shape, it took me an hour to get to Annapolis - a 10 minute drive at 10:00pm on a week night. On the way out to the car, I took a video of the snow falling in panorama and I remember saying, "life will never be the same again..."  It was a Tuesday, March 6th. I pulled up, went to the desk - explained who  I was - they had been warned that I was coming, grimly they told me I could go back,  I did.  Annie, when Daddy saw you, they had you on a crash cart of sorts - a very bored looking tech was pumping a little hand pump - your respirator, really? 

I remember having a conversation with the tech, looking around seeing solemn faces of sympathy - petting your little face, they had a rubber band to hold the air tube in, your tongue was caught in the rubber band and your teeth - I remember telling the tech to get that out of your mouth, that it had to hurt, she did as I asked. She asked me if I wanted to take you off the "respirator" to let you pass and I said yes. She told me to say my good bye's, I did so -  I remember telling you so many things, how much Daddy loved you, I would miss you, I was so sorry this happened, don't leave me, this wasn't how this was supposed to end... she stopped the respirator and Annie, you kept breathing.. your little heart beat, "beep, beep, beep, beep...." I remember asking her how long it would take, she said she didn't know - she asked me if I wanted to ease your suffering by her giving you something to "help you along..." Of course, Daddy said yes..  I was no ready for that... "beep, beep, beep.........nothing." I think I died with you Mae Mae, my baby. The second that I heard silence.. no beeps.. I knew that was it. 

Annie, I threw my entire body over that crash cart and screamed, "Daddy loves you baby girl, I love you, I love you, I love you. I'm so sorry."  I laid on top of you and covered you with my body. I'm not sure what happened or what I was trying to do, I sobbed.  I haven't cried like that ever in my life. I took a deep breath, I stood up and just kept petting you. They asked if I would like some time alone with you, I said yes.  They said they would prepare you and bring you to me in an exam room. I remember looking at the tech and said, "she was a rescue, she's responsible for saving over 100 rescue dogs through me, she inspired me with her story of suffering to rescue over 100 dogs..." The tech looked confused and scared and wanting nothing more that to be done with me.. she said, " I can tell you Mr. Wagner, not many dogs are loved like you obviously loved her. We don't see many dogs loved like that." 

So, they had me wait in this room - there was the "Rainbow Bridge" poem hanging on the wall. I remember thinking, a lot of pets must die here.. I sat down.. and waited.. they brought you in, wrapped in this blanket and put you in my arms - Annie, I cried and cried, I talked to you - they had left an IV tube into your neck , there was blood in it - I took it - I don't know why, it was your blood, maybe I could clone you - I thought of so many things - I left you in the room, asked for scissors, cut a bunch of your hair - put it in a plastic bag that I had brought - I petted you, I comforted you, I loved you and hugged you, my baby was dead, gone.  My little rescue dog, that suffered with PTSD, random shaking, survived three knee surgeries, anal gland issues all of your life and dentals that I doubt even needed to be done.  Daddy was a total nut when it came to your care Annie, nothing was too good for you, I gave you everything that I could afford. 

When you first came to me and I got that trainer for a $1000.00 - it didn't matter, you were worth it. I was committed to giving you the best life that I could - it ends up with this? You were still young Annie, not even 11 - you had years left. Sparky was supposed to be the next to go, not you. I am so sorry, little Wook, little Fuzzy - my heart, my life, my joy.  Thank you, Annie.  I have never laughed so hard, been so happy and felt so fulfilled and complete as I was when I was with you. I used to love it when you would jump up in my lap and curl up and looking back at me - knowing you were my pride and joy, secure in that - you were finally loved as any dog should be. I was so over the top with you and I didn't care. You were and are precious to me, always Annie. 

This past year has been an agony. Daddy has fallen apart Annie.  I put on a good show for the world but I am empty inside.  I quit the Board of Directors for the rescue, I resigned as the leader of the three BEH departments - I have been miserable with out you little one. I can tell you, I never believed in anything of a spiritual nature, psychic and paranormal but little one - things have happened - a week after you died, I asked you to let me know that you were ok, at 3:11am - the living room motion sensors went off.. then Spike running into the bedroom and jumping on the bed, barking at you, or at least where you used to lay and he would bark trying to get you to play - then I felt your little fur brush up again my shin - again, the security camera's catching an orb of light.. then a cluster of orbs - Annie, maybe it's Daddy's wishful thinking - I just pray that you are ok where ever you are, safe and loved and happy.

Then Sparky having a stroke, three weeks after you died, Annie. I thought he was going to join you, I know he misses you, too.  He was you right hand man - little Sparky - he wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, he was always in your shadow in my eyes. Annie, do you know he never barked until you died, then he knew he had to, he was the next in line, my boy Spark.  In the past year Annie, your brother Sparky has had a year of dealing with the youth of Spike and your daughter Mae, I guess that makes her my grand daughter doggy :) 

Peanut, even your daughter, Mae - yes, I call her your daughter - she is so much like you - born exactly a week after you died - a little female broken coat Jack Russell - when that video popped up on Facebook, why did that happen? Did you make that happen Annie? Her little puppy video popped up - I have no clue how that happened.  I had NO intention of getting another dog - let alone a baby puppy. Spike was it - my last puppy - Daddy is getting old and I don't want any pets outliving me - no one would take care of all of you like I do :)  Annie, no one will ever take your place.  I have to admit, that when I saw the video - she was so woeful and alone and shy - like you - and a puppy, eight weeks - I have to admit to hoping your little soul jumped from your little body into hers. Now, I don't want that at all, she's her own little doggy - as sweet as she can be - the new princess puppy - I love her for her, who she is.  She loves your Daddy, Annie - I believe you gave her to me, to save me. She has in a way, I will never die before they do - I have thought about it, I was that destroyed by your death Annie. In many ways, I still I am - with Spike and Sparky - your Aunt Dot could have taken them on and they would be fine, you all love her but, like you, Mae is all about your daddy. 

She should be around until I'm 70, so I'm here until then at least - the God's willing. 

So - here I am a year later, Annie.  My health has suffered so badly since you've died. I've let myself go. I've gained 30lbs, drink too much and very much self isolate - I put on a good game face though. I have to say, that Mae has brought me back joy - at first, I felt guilty that I could laugh like that again with you gone, but Annie - she's so full of life and love and happiness and innocence and trust - I can't take that away from her by being a depressed and sad doggy daddy - that wouldn't be fair to steal her joy and hope.

Mae is you Annie, times ten, your drama is hers - she's jealous and needs me like you never admitted that you did (but you did, smile). Thank you for giving her to me. So, looking forward, Daddy is going to focus on "getting well" - losing weight - not drinking, following up on Dr's appointments and focusing on joy and cheer, good health and being happy again.

Today Annie, I think I truly have been able to deal with your being gone for the first time and acknowledging it - I have literally cried every day for the past year, over you leaving me and in such a tragic way. If you were old and suffering, I could understand but this was over me giving you a dog bone that splintered trying to celebrate Spike's birthday.  I have conquered the world Peanut but this, your death - took me to depths of despair and loneliness that I have never experienced before. People would question, "over a dog?" Annie, you know Daddy's past - after years of other peoples drama, one person in particular, I built a bubble around me that no human could get through - you little dog, did. You became my world, you gave me purpose that was full of joy, trust and honest devotion. Your death put me into a tail spin of my own personal suffering - Aunt Dot and Nomy were very worried about Daddy - your little daughter Mae - saved Daddy. She is what I imagine you would have been without all of the trauma you suffered, her world is very small and very perfect. I plan on spending the next fifteen years keeping it that way and I will. 

Today was all about remembering you.  I took the week off from work, a few people checked in on me today to see how I was, that was kind. People have been more kind over you than I ever would have expected. That has meant a lot. Losing you has been like losing a child, I truly believe I could not have loved my own child more that I loved you - maybe that's why I never had my own children, I would have been a total nut, ha! You know, I'm right :)   

You're brother Sparky and I went on a memorial walk for you at your favorite park today, Annie.  We visited all of your favorite places.  He has not been back to that park since you died, Mae Mae. Today was the first and it was all to celebrate your life. After that, Daddy scheduled an appt with a renowned tattoo artist to have your portrait tattooed on my left bicep - then I spent the afternoon getting lost in google photos and watched dozens of old movies of you and looked at all of your old pictures - I miss you, Annie.  It did make me feel good to see that you had a good life after you came to be a Wagner, a very good and very happy life - you deserved it after all of your suffering and abuse as a pup and young doggy - my happy girl. Then your Aunt Dot joined me for a memorial dinner in your honor - we toasted your memory, your Aunt Dot loved you Annie - she's the only one that I trusted when I went out of town to stay with and care for you.  The picture that I'm having tattooed on me, she took of you while Daddy was in Egypt, it shows your happy personality and who you really are - you knew your place in this house and in my life.

After dinner, I came home - at 9:23pm to 9:36pm, I said a string of "Hail Mary's" to you and prayed that you are ok - then at 10:30pm, I headed out to the ER vet's where you died, exactly a year ago to the minute - where you little big brave heart, stopped beating and both of our lives ended. Annie, Daddy has not been out there since you died, I vowed never to go back - I hated that place - especially after I was handed your ashes and they said, "oh - by the way, no metal was found".. I remember thinking that the ashes they handed me weren't you - where was your "bionic" knee? It should have been there, where was it? Then, I found it - another gift to me - your little titanium knee - I wear it as a necklace today. I had such dark thoughts of the negligence when I thought of that ER vet, your suffering and ultimately your death - my death. Guess what, sweetheart? The building you died in, is gone - it's been leveled.  When I pulled up, it was 10:48 - I was going to discretely pull up, say a prayer for you at 10:52pm and leave - the building itself is gone, a new ER vet is about 100 yards behind the old building - how fitting - I actually felt good about it.  I parked the car where I did last year when I came to say good bye to you, the exact same spot - then I walked through the rubble to where I imagined that little crash cart was where you died - I said hello to you - told you that I loved you and that I was so sorry for the way that our story together ended. 

I realized then that our story will never end, you will always be with me baby girl - little Shawnee, my Mae Mae, my baby - my joy.  I heard a song with lyrics that said "I will always carry your light inside of  me..." and Annie, that is so true, I always will - I choose to think about ALL of the happy times we had together, the hardships we survived - my God - your knees - little one, you were such a trooper through all of it - I had such respect for your tenacity of life and ability to move through hardship. I admired that - you set an example for me - your human, I only hope that I can live up to it. I will do my best. 

Annie, Daddy can never explain this bond between us - sometimes I think that it's we were both so badly damaged by people, by humans - and we recognized it in each other, a kinship of abuse, hardship - mistrust, self reliance and survival and that having each other in our lives, somehow gave us comfort - the ability to trust again, be happy and to love - thank you, Annie - thank you for that - you were the only pure little thing in my life. I just wish we could have had one more day together, that we knew what was going to happen - I would have done all of your favorite things, fed you ice cream - steak, gone for a long walk and most of all hugged and kissed you and kept you safe. I love you, Annie. I always will. I told you that night, "I will see you in Heaven." and I hope over all hopes, that I will. I miss you every minute of every day, Jelly Bean. :)  Yes, that tech was right - you were loved and loved more than most - and always will be. Now, it's time for Daddy to heal. 

Maybe someday, I will come back and update this blog Annie - there is so much to write about your life. About the rescue work that you inspired me to do, you really did save over 100 dogs, probably hundreds of dogs when I think about it - you even have a book dedicated to you - a book written by a man dedicated to dog rescue work - I was pleased to see that and you surely deserved that "To Annie, a very Special Rescue dog." And that you are. 

THANK YOU, ANNIE.

Yes, it has been too long since I have updated Annie's blog! Bridget, thank you for reminding me as Annie has come so far since her first day here at what I call "the Dog Ranch". An example of how far Annie has come, happened just last night. But.. before I share that story, let me put an advertising plug in for BRUSHING YOUR DOGS TEETH! Yes folks, I have graduated to brushing Annie and Tiger's teeth. I think I might have mentioned it before, but it does extend a dog's life on an average of 3 to 5 years so I feel it's certainly worth my time to keep them around longer.

So, here's the story about how far my little Annie has come. Hysterical little dog that keeps me joyful and grateful 24/7. Annie knows that when she gets her teeth brushed, the reward is to go for a walk right after. So last night, I noticed some tartar build up that had appeared (even though I was brushing her teeth) was breaking up and going away with a new product I've been using (it's a green Gel people, it works! Tropic Clean, clean teeth gel). So, I guess Annie picked up on my happiness that this stuff was working on her plaque and tartar build up. I told her she was a good dog and I put her down. She took off with unadulterated joy and ran through the house like a little crazy dog.. it was hysterical! She made loops going from the kitchen to the living room down the hall into a bedroom and back out to do it all over again.. I have never had a dog express their joy like that before. I can't help but think, "HOW FAR YOU HAVE COME FROM THOSE TERRIBLE DAYS OF ABUSE AND NEGLECT, LITTLE LOVING DOG!"

I also, have come to understand the phrase that many people who adopt pets have commented on; that is .. " who rescued whom?" What a treat it is to have this happy little animal as a part of my life. How many times has this little dog brought joy to me when I most needed it and least expected it. Thank you, Annie. You have changed my life for the better in so many ways. I love you, little dog (but you know that, don't you!). I hope you do :)

As for Annie's struggle with weight, she has been working out dilligently on a daily basis. She's got a little routine that starts with her first bathroom break in the back yard. Yes, little Annie, you live to dig! And it's a good thing that I own this property, otherwise, there would be many complaints about all those holes in the back yard now! You dig and dig and dig. I looked at you one day and realized that it was actually a good work out (in addition to our walks) and yes little dog, you do need to loose some weight! The winter has been good to you with all of your treats, not to mention your penchant for people food (that I can't seem to resist indulging you with!).

It is hard to believe that it's been almost a year since our little Ginger, passed. Annie, thank you for helping me "move on". Ginger will always be a part of my heart, she was another well loved Jack Russell Terrier. You and she have the same spunk, intelligence, devotion and loyalty.. to me. I have a lump in my throat just thinking about her, my little bean. So I heard something today that made me think of you Ginge; it went something like this.. a part of a poem, I think.. "I can mourn her death with crying or I can celebrate her life with joy.." I know it was more than that but wow, did that make me think of you, Ginny! Ok, this is Annie's blog, can't steal her thunder but it's always good to recognize her roots in you! If it weren't for you, there would not be an Annie. And since I'm doing this.. if it weren't for two other Jack Russell's (neighbors dogs) there never would have been a Ginger! They are Scooter, who used to run out and jump all over me (in my suits, no less..) every morning when I would leave for work.. and she would be there every night to greet me, when I would come home. Those were hard years, and she brought me a lot of joy. She was hit and killed on he main road in the development. I will never forgive the neighbors for letting that special little dog run the neighborhood like that which ultimately cost her, her life. :( That was almost 20 years, hard to believe, I am honored to give tribute here, she deserves it). The other shout out, goes to BUSTER.. little Scooters replacement after she was killed. Again, they didn't learn.. little Buster was doomed and met the same fate that Scooter did. Both Scooter and Buster will always be remembered by ME! Happy little dogs. Okay, enough with the shout outs for past little pup's, back to the land of the living!

Annie, you have taught me so many things. For example, I do my best to live in the moment. Also, my own tendency to dwell on the negative and hardships is all but impossible to indulge with you and your little funny antics keeping me going in a positive direction. So, that brings me to the next point I wanted to document. Yes, Annie.. you have big plans that I really attribute to your growth and healing because I never would have thought you were capable of this when you first came here. I am now exploring "Therapy Dog" programs for you. We need to do some training but we'll get there. That is my ultimate goal for you, little dog. The joy you bring me every day, I think you could share with the elderly or the sick to enrich their lives and I think it would be something you would love and have fun. That's what my goal is for you. To have such a wonderful life Annie, that you completely forget those terrible first two years of hardships.

To anyone that reads this, thanks for giving Annie's blog your time. She's well worth it!

Annie, you have come so far!

Annie, my girl! I am so happy with how far you have come. Right now, you are chewing on one of your favorite things in life, a rawhide chew with beef. You love them. But.. when I first gave you one, you would guard it until you were exhausted growling. For hours, you would growl. I wouldn't take it away because I didn't want you to think you had anything to fear. I look at you now and you are happily chewing away at it. Progress!

You still let me know that you have a way to go though, huh? Yesterday, when I put the kayak paddle together and you ran in fear.. made me sad. It made me wonder what terrible memory you have of something that the paddle reminded you of. I am sorry you had to endure those hardships, little pup. You are so dang cute, I have no idea why someone would even think to hurt you or be mean and cruel to you or any innocent animal. Whoever it was, they were thorough. They have left their mark on you. But believe this little cute dog, you have my commitment to ensure the rest of your life is without hardship and I will work my hardest to make you forget those very bad times.

You still wake up with nightmares, snarling and growling at some unknown trauma you are trying to fend off. I can always tell when you are feeling stress or getting nervous, you look at your little nub of a tail and growl or bark angrily. No idea what that is about either. Who did this to you?

So, here's the good news, little rescue dog of mine. When you first came here, your anger was so bad, I had to get a dog trainer in to deal with it. Guess what? You have come so far that I bet 90% of your day is happy and terror free. What do I love about you, Annie? I love the way you follow me around, I love the way you cuddle up to me and crawl under the covers when it's cold, I love the way you fight your way in between me and poor Tiger when tries to invade your space. I even love the way you watch TV. And dare I forget, I love your little shaggy furry coat. I never expected your fur to grow out like it has but you remind me of a little shetland pony. Most of all, Annie.. I love the way you greet me when I come home. You run up to me at the door, wait to be acknowledged and then run to the kitchen. Dang cute. And what about when you are super happy and run through the house at 90 miles an hour. I love that most of all because I know that you have totally let go of that awful past of yours and you are truly enjoying your life with me! I love you, little dog.




Never did I realize how much you would change my life, you really have and I am forever grateful to you for that. Here you are enjoying another treat, SNOW! I realized last winter with all the blizzard snow, that you never knew snow before. Well, this is your second winter in the northeast, you sure know what snow is now! And you even have a new Cable Knit Irish sweater to keep warm on our cold winter night walks! I know, it barely fits because I have such a hard time keeping you on a diet! We'll blame it on poor Tiger! Well, she likes treats too, doesn't she?



So, here's the last picture I'm going to put up on this post, I have to put it up. What did that lady say to us on that one walk at Piney Orchard? Didn't she say something about how cute your little butt was? Well little dog, she was right, I actually think it's more your bobtail but you sure do look cute from every angle, here's the proof! Love you, Annie!!

Congratulations Annie - It's been ONE year!

Where does the time go? I can't believe that I am writing Annie's first anniversary post. What a year it has been! LOL. This is what I would refer to as a true Tiger year; hardships abound, unpredictable, tumultuous but oddly productive. That about sums it up. People in the hospital, deaths in the family (3), my little Ginger moving on, new jobs, challenging people, I have to admit, I will be glad to see 2011 sweep in the year of the Rabbit (of course, who know's if this will be a better year?!). Enough about Astrology, this is little Annie's Anniversary blog.

How did she spend her Anniversary? Very nicely, it started out with company coming over on Christmas Eve, Annie always loves company. I was going to pen them in and then decided not to as it was just family members that she knew well. She loves Nomy and Ampop.






Christmas Day, Annie had alot of fun sleeping in. Tossing and turning, stretching, readjusting her position and then falling back to sleep. When she got up, she was very excited and let me know quickly that she needed to go out to take care of business. She and Tiger both ran to the back door, I opened it and they ran down the deck steps, sliding all the way as it was covered with a thin patch of ice, they did their business. They were getting ready to run back up the steps and Annie ran over to the leaves on the side of the yard. Apparently, she had heard something, she jumped on the pile of leaves and kept bouncing up and down. I have no idea what was under there but Tiger had to get in on the act too. She did. Before I knew it, both dogs were pouncing on whatever poor creature had buried itself underneath the leaves. I called them off, of course that only last for a second but it was long enough for whatever it was to get away. They were both definitely diappointed at the mystericous prey getting away.

A year ago, what a nightmare her first day was. I have spent the past year trying to show her that life can be good. I know that she has bonded with me. When she is up on the bed with me and Tiger comes in, Annie will run to my face and start giving me little dog kisses, then she growls at Tiger. I guess, she has adopted me as much as I have her. What a wonderful little dog. Many times over the past year, I wish I had her from the time she was a puppy, she would be a different dog. She honestly suffers from PTSD, I am working with her on that too. Time, hopefully, will heal all of her suffering behaviors. I feel bad about that because she is such a sweet dog that only wants to be loved.

Here's to you, Annie. I honestly believe I am a better person for knowing you. There is a say among dog rescuers and it goes something like this.. "my rescue dog rescued me..." something like that. I really feel that way about Annie. Thank you, Annie. I love you and I promise to ensure the rest of your life more than makes up for the hardships you have endured in those first two years. I promise you that, little one.

Becky, my sister, was here on Christmas Eve. She said, "I see what you mean, there is a sadness in her." Yes Bek, that is exactly what I mean. This little loving dog has been abused and is always afraid of what is coming next. I have no idea how to fix it other than to shower her with love and compassion and pray that it works to get her over those bad times. I just wish she could forget them.

Congratulations, Annie!

The Three Amigo's - Catching up!

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Tribute To My Ginger

Ode to an old friend, I miss you, my best friend of 15 and a half years.. what do you say? I haven't written in this blog for almost three months because Ginger got really sick shortly after the last entry and at exactly 1035am on Wednesday, August 4th, 2010, she took her last breath and passed away. Ginger had been diagnosed with Leukemia (Chronic type)almost two years ago. I took her to the canine oncologist in Annapolis and bought the prescribed chemo meds. I couldn't go through with it after seeing the suffering that my own mom went through when she fought off breast cancer. Chemo is no joke, people. The vets were telling me that dogs handle it better, etc. Yeah right, do dogs speak? Regardless, I just couldn't do it and put it in God's hands. I knew there would come a time when I would need to make a decision, I was hoping that I wouldn't have to and that Ginger would do that on her own. Well, she was such a little slugger, she surprised me by living much longer than the vets had expected. She suffered through seizures that were brought on by the leukemia robbing her brain of oxygen. In the beginning, the seizures were few and far between but she ended up having them almost every time she exerted herself. She was my shadow for the past 15.5 years. My third ankle, my best friend. I could write a book about her and I have in my own journal, this is Annie's venue so I will remain true to that. I had to mention Ginger's passing on though. If it weren't for Ginger, there would be no Annie or Reed, my sister's Jack Russell Terrier.

When she passed away, she took some of me with her. I do not handle death well and that is the only thing that I do not like about dogs, they die and leave us. I keep thinking this will be the first Christmas in 16 years that she and I aren't together. How is it fair that life goes on and she's not here? The vet came to the house, I couldn't have her last memory in a cold vets office with all the noise and chaos. She'd reached a point where she hated to go to the vets after all the blood tests with her Leukemia. Dr. Golden was very kind when he arrived but before he got here, I regretted your last night's sleep, very rough but it showed me I had made the right decision. You ended up in the corner of the room with your nose buried in the carpet, your breathing was labored. We went outside, you did great and took a quick whiz. We stayed out there for quite a while. I don't think you knew what was going on but you knew you were with me and that is all that has ever really mattered to you. I made you scrambled eggs, you wouldn't eat. I did give you some cheese, I was glad to see you eat a little of it. Then.. the Dr's car was in the driveway. He stayed a long time, asked if I was ready and I said yes. I gave you one last hug. He explained what was going to happen, I looked at you and you looked scared Ginny, kinda confused. It broke my heart. He ended up trying to stick you with that needle three times. You scurried up into my arms for protection, I held you while he finally got it in. I feel terrible about that but I knew it had to be done, I'm sorry little peanut. You fell asleep almost instantly. You were so sound asleep, you snored and snored loud, I told the Doc that you hadn't slept that soundly in a long long time. Finally, he gave you the second shot and your breathing stopped instantly. My heart shattered right then and there. I looked up and noted the time 1035am, August 4th. I will never forget that. After he left, I brought your little buds out one at a time, Tiger gave you a couple of sniffs and laid down, Caesar sniffed you too, your little son and ran off up the steps. Annie, the one that I know you did not like, truly grieved.. I guess it's because maybe she has seen death before and Tiger and Caesar haven't, Annie went into the front bedroom and did not come out for two days. She has not, as of yet, used your bed to sleep in. Tiger and Caesar do sometimes, not often. We all miss you, Ginny but Annie hurt. I was honestly surprised by that. She loved you, too.

I first met you when you were six weeks old, you were already potty trained. My little over achiever :) You were born in a little Rancher house to an older retired couple that loved Jack Russell's. Your mom was 9 and your dad was 11. The man had built them the biggest dog house that I have ever seen; a converted shed with many floors to play in. The lady gave me a pick, you or your sister.. there were only two of you, you were the tiny one, I picked you. You didn't need a leash, you never left my side, even outside you always stayed with me. I always felt that you and I were meant to be. Thank you for sharing your life with me, little Ginny, my Binnio, my Gin Gin, your life was a special one. Heaven is now a brighter place because you are there.

Rest in PEACE my little one, I love you. Ginger, aka. .jelly bean, peanut, boo.. and many other little names she acquired over the years .. March 12, 1995 - August 4, 2010. :( ..until we see each other again.