I didn’t mean to stay away so long, I just wasn’t sure what to say.

Thank you for the kind thoughts.  I wish I had the energy to reply to them personally.  Good people do that, don’t they?  They write thank you notes to condolence notes, return pans with new baked goods baked in them…not that anyone gave us baked goods.  I’m just sayin’.  There is a gracefulness to death that I have always lacked.  I have strength, and it is often called on by others so I suppose it is useful.  But alone with my thoughts, or in situations where strength isn’t called for, I feel more awkward than the time I jumped into a friend’s car assuming his mother had seen me when in fact she hadn’t and thought she was being car-jacked.

Side note to new commenters:  you have be approved once; after that every time you comment it will be automatically posted.  And if you commented for the first time and it didn’t show, let me know.  I have some rudimentary spam-blocking in place that has foiled a friend or two in the past.

Side note on the side note:  Is it weird that I am less offended at all the drug spam than the ones that say, “Good and informative site!  Allow us to be friends!” followed by six porn links?

So…our dog died.  And it was bad.  And I took a test the day after and didn’t do so well.

We’re still struggling.  And there are still many people who don’t know unless through the grape vine.  I only told the story to two sanctuary friends, although I know it was passed on so I feel strange as I talk about my Busch-less life with others and wonder if they know.

Due to scheduling issues, I haven’t been out to do trapping research since it happened.  I’m a bit concerned how I’ll feel stomping through underbrush after this snake encounter.  I’ve come across snakes during research before (no venomous ones) and delighted in the find.  Not sure that will be my reaction now.

But life goes on…the exciting thing I was looking forward to didn’t happen.  Four new cats were rescued from Ohio this weekend.  For a brief while it looked like I might go up before everyone else and do some training with them to ease the transport, but it fell through for legal reasons surrounding these cats.  I was disappointed, but now that it’s all said and done I can’t feel anything but relief that these animals are in a better home now.

(For those who are regulars, email or comment and I will send you a link to the story.)

Before that, the sanctuary had its annual huge formal ball fundraiser.  It was crazy and hectic and painful (I wore a long skirt and knee-high boots to hide both knee and ankle braces).  It was also successful.

Tom and I will be going to Georgia this weekend to visit his family.  We will be returning with his other dog Lady, a sheltie who has stayed with his parents since he moved to Florida.  I have mixed feelings about this.  I’m not sure the condo is the best place for her – she’s been an outside dog for a while and not having a back yard is one of the big reasons we hadn’t brought her down before.  Tom however feels life is very much lacking without a dog, and I am willing to give it a try for him. 

But I will try.

Busch died yesterday evening, close to 6pm.

We had walked to the neighborhood park.  It has an enclosed playground on one side, some wide lawn, a basketball court, and a boardwalk surrounds the far side, stretching into some swamp area.

Usually there is some touch football in the lawn, or a pick-up game of basketball.  But yesterday all was clear except two families in the playground.

We decided to let Busch off his leash.  He lived a very confined life in the condo.  He never complained about it, loved to be in bed with us or curled up on the sofa.  Nevertheless, he still got very excited at the sign of shoes and keys and leashes and the possibility of more.

We walked the distance of the lawn, with him running into the bushes to look for rabbits.  At the other end, we used the PETS ONLY water fountain.  We laughed because Tom decided to throw away the poo bag mere seconds before Busch decided he had to go again.

We started walking back on the boardwalk – we love to look at the swamp area and how it changes with the rain.  But Busch was very interested in going back the way we came.  We were deciding on letting him have his way (we thought he wanted to roll in swamp mud), when I turned around and saw a rattle snake crawling onto the boardwalk.

I yelled for Busch, then yelled for Tom.

It was too late.

Busch attacked a 5-foot timber rattlesnake and then ran off yelping into the lawn.

Tom ran past me and stomped on the snake’s head.  He yelled at me to get Busch.

I ran to Busch and looked for bite marks.  I saw none, but was sure the yelping wasn’t for show.  I scooped him up and started to run the 1/3 mile back home.

Tom caught up with me and wanted to take a look.  We saw a superficial gash on his bottom jaw.  Tom took the dog and walked to keep him calm while I kept running.

I ran upstairs, grabbed keys, and made an attempt to locate a closer ER vet than the one I knew of.  That failed, so I ran back outside.

Tom was coming up the walk.  I told him to wait.  When we got in the car he said he thought Busch wouldn’t make it.  He had already seized once and Tom had been running since that point.

At the stoplight, I grabbed an empty water bottle and told Tom to perform mouth-to-mouth.

I got on the Interstate and said I was putting my hazards on.  He said it was too late.  He felt a heartbeat with the first two breaths, but it was gone after the last.

It wasn’t until then that Tom noticed the bite marks on the back of his neck.  A human probably would not survive a good dose of venom administered thusly.  It was impossible for a sixteen pound dog.

There was nothing we could have done after the attack, but I’m glad we did what we could.  I know we did not give up on him.

I know I should feel regret that we had taken him off his leash.  But he was having such a wonderful time.  In a rural environment, we might have thought twice.  This was a freak accident.

We are heartbroken and in shock.  For me, I have had to watch many animals go from long illness and old age.  The visceralness of the event haunts me.  At thirty-two, I am still unable to understand that everything can’t be fixed by different, faster, better methods.

The last pictures I have of Busch are from July when we stayed at Tom’s family cabin in Port St. Joe, FL.  I actually didn’t take any pictures while there, and started clicking away on the drive home to try and capture a few memories.

I’m glad I did.

Busch, you helped bring your father and I together.  I hadn’t dated anyone with pets in a long time.  I fell in love with you so hard and fast.  I know you went how you wanted to go, attacking critters.  But I wish you were still here.

What I’ve been doing, list edition:

1)  Hobbling.  My knee cap is not sitting right on my left leg causing some bone-on-bone action/throbbing pain.  I am lucky in the aspect that a brace and some strength training should solve it.  But FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK.  a)  It hurts.  A lot.  b)  Can’t I have ONE body part that remains unscathed?

2)  Working.  And getting a raise!  OK, so a small raise.  Very small, if you consider that I was used to 12% in the software field.  (Thank you, tax payers.)  But somehow, $.50/hour more is very fulfilling.  I always had a gut feeling there was an office job out there I could tolerate, perhaps even enjoy.  This is it.

3)  Secreting.  I have an amazing opportunity via the sanctuary that I can’t talk about right now.  It might now even happen, things are very nebulous.  But if it does, it will catapult my animal handling/training experience into the next level.

4)  Stressing.  No shit, right?  You’ve met me.  Or at least, you’ve read here.  Or maybe you’re reading here for the first time and are so captivated you go back in the archives a bit?  Pretty please?  Seriously, I know for a fact I haven’t outdone myself for over-doing it.  But I’m coming close.  Once again, I’m questioning the decision to stay in school.  I cannot keep scheduling my life 7am to 6pm and expect to have time to study/write/research.  The good news is that I’m certain I’ll survive this semester.  The bad news is that I may have to take a “B” in a class or two.  Exams come up in the next two weeks.  Time will tell.