A Sad Farewell

This is a my-life-when-I'm-not-quilting post.  

I won't be offended if you don't read it.

They say, "Life is merrier with an Airedale Terrier."  It's true!  It's more evident than ever after only one day without our dear Hannah.  She became an Aire-Angel yesterday.

She was diagnosed with lymphoma last December.  Dogs with lymphoma usually live only four to six weeks.  We had the blessing of nearly six good months with her.  The past few weeks her health declined until we had to make the difficult choice to let her go.  How I miss her! 

Hannah came to stay with us as a 2-year-old foster girl in the spring of 2008.  She had been in a situation of neglect and abuse and was afraid of everything:  steps, doors, drawers, kitchen utensils, the computer mouse, lights, the TV, a sheet of paper, a change in flooring, men, hands, noises, and anything new.  And everything was new to her because she'd spent the first two years of her life tied to a tree with her brother.  She was not house-broken and did not recognize words.  It didn't take two hours for me to begin thinking about how soon we could find her a forever home (that wasn't ours).

I spent her first night sleeping on the floor with her because I wanted her to feel as comfortable and safe as possible in this new situation.  I was surprised that she nestled right next to me.  When the sun rose the next morning Hannah yawned, stretched, almost smiled, and did a little playbow.  Her eyes were alight with joy and, dare I say it, love.  I sensed that she recognized me as pack leader and felt that she belonged to this new place in her world.  That was when I began to fall in love with Hannah.

So Hannah stayed and blossomed.  Her timidness with new people continued but she overcame her fears in so many other ways.  She gained confidence little by little -- safe throughout the house, safe in her fenced-in yard, safe for a walk, safe with me.  She learned her name and the basic commands:  come, sit, down, wait, and stay.  She also learned to "say please" with a sweet head bob:  at mealtimes I asked her to sit and wait, say please, then I kissed her on the forehead and gave her the okay to eat.  She loved squeaky and stretchy toys and often invited us to play.  Sometimes she was just as pleased to play by herself, grabbing a tissue box or one of her stuffed toys and tossing it around.  We used to laugh when she did this, which only encouraged her to continue or repeat the behavior.  Never laugh at an Airedale's antics:  it only encourages them.  Airedales have a great sense of humor and never seem to mind playing the clown if someone's laughing.

I consider it no small compliment that Hannah chose to love me above everyone else in our home.  She liked to be wherever I was, watching or interacting with me, and came to find me if I moved from a room while she was napping.  When I asked her for a hug, I usually received one.  There's nothing like a hug from an Airedale!

I spent most of Friday night on the floor nestled next to Hannah.  I didn't want her to feel alone and I especially wanted her to know that she was--and is--loved.  It seemed like we'd come full circle.

Being Hannah's adoptive mom has been one of the best experiences of my life -- both a blessing and a joy.  How I love her!  And how I miss her!!!

--Nancy.
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