Frannie a Brave Dog from GA - reprise

(wrote this after my last transport- before cancer)

I transported Frannie the senior chow mix that was saved last week from Heard County GA from half way across Kansas to Denver yesterday. It was an outstanding feeling to be able to help her tired old soul.

What I didn't realize would happen is how her presence in my car would make me reflect so much on my own state of mind. And of course I thought I'd share this with you.

To better understand me I'll tell you all this - I lost my North Star (mom) when I was just a kid - so much sadness, grief, struggle and loss has plagued my life.  If I were to use just one word to describe me to someone it would be Survivor.  I think that is why I have such a soft spot for the mistreated abandoned dog that still wags his tail because it shows tangible proof that a soul no matter how beaten down can still shine bright enough to warm another.  These dogs warm my soul all of the time.

That is what I saw in Frannie yesterday.  At the hand-off she was shy yet gentle standing there in the windy Kansas field her fur was so gorgeous and it was blowing around where you can see the subtle variations of the blackness in the sunshine.  Her face, a little scarred reminds me of a little black bear cub.  The most heartbreaking thing I noticed was the way her eyes would not light up, it was like for all of the disappointment and pain she has suffered she was cautious and she would stand proudly and take whatever was about to come at her- Good or Bad. Her eyes, although not shining, were not dim either. There was something lurking behind them. Frannies courage in the face of the unknown made me cry for her and respect her.  In fact I cried for a good 50 miles before I regained my composure.

I am like Frannie, never wanting to be too excited for anything because I am cautious with my fragile spirit.  But I don't flee because I have experienced many surprising twists that led me to better places in spite of it all.  I will take life's beatings without flinching although inside I'm writhing in pain but I do not give up, because I know hope. I have choices and that understanding brings me hope and this is the fundamental difference -   this dog has never had choices or therefore hope.  I can't imagine the strength you'd have to have to endure so much knowing that you do not have options and what you are dealt; you must endure or die of... wait that sounds like my cancer journey.

Damn

I have overcome most of my experiences and found myself back to sunny fields many times; I find myself taking in stride the change life is just about to bring me – just like Frannie.

Frannies new mom met me at the Conoco parking lot in Denver.  I had Frannie on a lead and Jack in my other hand.  He was petting her head and explaining to her that she was not lost anymore, her new mom was on her way to take her home.  Then this kind woman in a Jeep pulled up…..jumped out and the first thing she said to this dog was "I've been waiting for you for so long"  And those eyes that had been missing their sparkle started shining instantly and Frannie not only wagged her tail, her whole body wiggled! 

It was inspriring

To a passerby it looked like a dog being returned to a loving owner that had lost her.  Who would know that this dog captured the heart of a lady in Colorado on the internet from pictures taken in the pound? That this dog had suffered so much neglect and loneliness half way across the country?  Who would know that Frannie traveled 1600 miles from deaths door to this woman who right then was as excited as someone being handed their newborn for the first time?

A beautiful odyssey 

When someone asks us how we can bear to see so much loss with dogs that don't make it out of shelters alive - we always tell the star fish story, and no one gets it…except for other people who have witness reunions of kindred spirits like this.

Frannie is not lost anymore 

Many of us with difficult memories of hard lives gravitate towards animals because perhaps humans have not been the kindest us either- lets learn from our wonderful canine friends- to not be afraid to stand proudly with courage and accept into our lives even the most unlikely scenarios- and when that moment comes that what you get is a positive outcome celebrate by wiggling your whole body! 

I'm off to one of my last three chemos and will remember Frannie standing in the sun waiting without fear... I will be that brave dog today!

brown eyed susans reprise

There used to be a big field where a couple cows roamed freely near where I lived It wasa strange little island of the country on that city block, completely out of place and unexpected.  I remember always thinking about how tranquil it was to turn and look at it for a moment before pulling out onto the busy street and losing the tranquility to traffic.  I was surprised the day I realized that it was covered in wild flowers... brown eyed Susans.   My favorites are the weeds... daisies, sunflowers and these yellow and brown flowers of late summer.

Have you ever tried to pick one? Tried to snap it at the bottom? It’s very hard, they are strong as nylon rope and they grow without any assistance from us. That is a flower worth admiring.  Self sufficient and adapting to what nature throws at it  then finding a way to bloom joyously just about anywhere it can find a tiny patch of earth.

  

My dad knew my favorite flower was the daisy and next to that this wild yellow one- they grow everywhere here in late summer and into the fall. For many years he filled my home up with the color of a sleepy summer  afternoon. For as long as he lived near me he carried a pair of small garden pruners in his glove box.  So that from August through late September my house was full of those roadside blooms - he would stop and cut me a bunch every chance he got  as he noticed them while he was driving.   He knew they were tough and never arrogantly tried  to break them off at the stem. Thus the shears that lived in his van, he was always prepared.  He’d carefully snip them like they were fine roses.  Never underestimate the value of a simple kind gesture.

Now, many years  after his passing I continue to pay the kindness back in the same way. He’s buried at the Veterans Cemetery in Leavenworth Kansas where the rows and rows of white headstones line the hills stoically.  It's always made me sad that so few of them ever have flowers. 

So I bring him daisies to his grave as often as I can and when the wild yellow started to bloom, I am ready. I carry the same pruners in my glove box and end up with so many flowers by the time I get up there that I make sure to share my gift with everyone else buried on his row. 

I haven't been up to see him as often since I've been sick, in fact yesterday I saw many many brown eyed susans on my way back from my failed chemo appt. It hit me harder than usual to think about him- I missed him so much at that moment and the memory of him with his arms full of flowers coming to my front door. It made me reflect on how much things change and how much things stay the same.  

My dad passed away in 2003, yet he had been bringing me flowers for so many years before that. Now many years after, the blooms still pop up at the same time each year. I often wonder if God took him when he did because all of this would have broken his heart to see; my being widowed, the stroke and now the cancer. I prefer to imagine him as my angel not here grieving for my troubles. 

We can choose to bring in a couple of weeds from the roadside and treat them with care as if they were expensive roses or ignore them until our cars have splashed mud and muted the yellow out of them. If we bring them in they will bring color, brightness  and joy to our life.

Regardless they will be back with as much perserverence and happiness as the first time you noticed them. Year after year. Lets learn from the weeds in our fields by relentlessly coming back and trying time and time again 

Thats what I'm doing next week when I go back to chemo...