Just about a year ago, we moved into an old turn-of-the-(20th)-century home that needed (and still needs) a lot of work. We’ve been making slow progress, and with the exception of some initial and very necessary construction to remodel the very rundown kitchen and a few other improvements, doing most of the work ourselves. But one of the things we began work on almost as soon as we moved in was the gardens. Here are just some of the early Spring flowers (photos shot May 5, 2013)
Perhaps it’s true that it isn’t the duration of life, it’s the fullness. If that’s true, my dear sweet Reva wasn’t robbed, although it still feels that way every day. So I beg your indulgence while I share a few more memories.
She loved to watch TV. Especially other animals.
When she was getting attention, she made snorty sounds that we called “pig dog.”
We called her “Reva the Diva” but she was never truly a diva. She just loved… her people, life, snacks. The “pecking order” was of no interest.
As my brother often said, she was “differently brained.” About a week before she died when she was feeling pretty chipper, I was in the basement jogging on the treadmill, and my mom was folding laundry with Reva “helping” when she took it into her head to join me on the machine. We were both pretty surprised — she that it was moving and me that she did it.
She was a true earth dog. Vermin were the enemy. When she was about 2 years old, we went to a Scottie club event where they introduced earth dog training. Basically, a “tunnel” at the end of which were the rats. Reva figured out very quickly where the rats were, and decided there was no need to go through the tunnel when she could just run around it.
At home, she was always looking for the mice, and when we walked along the shore, she walked at the very edge of the walk along the rocks, making us nervous that she might just jump down the rocks after something. The other two were never so focused, but the week after she died, we took Cash and Penny to the shore for a walk, and they both were “edge walkers,” perhaps in tribute to Reva.
Sometimes as I am waking up in the morning, I forget that she is gone. I have lost animals before, and loved and missed them all. But this is by far the worst, and I thank you for all your kindness — in my comments, on Facebook and in person. Your support means everything.
I miss her so much.
Our sweet girl Reva (Ch. Blueberry’s Best Served Cold) passed away peacefully late Wednesday night.
She had two really great weeks from when we learned she had cancer — happy, playing in the yard with our other two dogs, getting spoiled rotten.
And then Wednesday when I got home from work, as soon as I saw her, I knew she had had a bad day. She’d seemed fine in the morning but as the day went on, she had trouble breathing; my brother had already made an appointment at the vet for the following day.
I couldn’t sleep though, so was watching TV in the family room, very near to where she was asleep in her crate. Around 11 pm or so, she yelped, so I picked her up and we sat peacefully together for 20, maybe 30 minutes as I stroked her. Then she had a couple mild convulsions and was gone.
I will miss her terribly for the rest of my life, but am so grateful that she did not suffer terribly and that I was with her at the end, in our home not in the scary vet’s office.
It is always too soon when a pet dies, and here, doubly so as she was only 8.5 years old. Far too young.
Her mother lived to nearly 14, so I thought I had years left with her. And while I try to treat all my animals equally, Reva was special for me. So special. It has taken me nearly 3 days to be able to write this post because you can’t type when you are bawling.
Let me tell you about Reva. So you will know how special she was too.
For the first year of her life, she lived partly with us but mostly with my co-owner who showed her to her championship in June 2005. Then she came to stay with me full-time, but the intention was that we would place her with a family.
Reva, however, was having none of that. She wanted to stay, and wormed her way indelibly into my heart. She became my dog.
She was obsessed with light and shadows. She would stare at a patch of sunlight for hours. And the laser pointer? The laser pointer was the only toy she really loved.
She loved to eat ice cubes.
When we did obedience, she was fine with sit, down and heel but the concept of sit-stay was a non-starter. “You want me to do WHAT as you walk away?”
When she was happy and getting attention, she made these snorty sounds that we came to call “pig-dog.”
She was a terrific mum. Although she wasn’t too thrilled with anyone but me handling her puppies.
When she was a puppy she nibbled through the drywall in the dog room in our old house. Who knows why? She was a very mouthy bitch all her life. She would talk to you. Long stories 🙂
Loved to chase feet. Mine in particular, although since we consolidated households with my mother and brother last Spring, Mum experienced the “Reva Nibble” quite a lot as well.
Once when she was very young, I apparently wasn’t getting the food down fast enough so she jumped up and nipped me on the ass, a story that my son LOVES to retell.
When she was about 8 months old, her half sister Carly (GCH Blueberry’s Attitude Dancing) won the breed at Westminster, and my co-owner and I were interviewed by the local paper and New England Cable News. Since Carly was still out showing with her handler, Reva was the “demo dog” and appeared on TV and in the paper.
For the past five years, Reva and her son Cash have been nearly inseparable except for the few months when Cash (Ch. Blueberry’s Cold Cash) was with our handler. I am sure he misses her as much as we do.
There is a Reva shaped hole in our hearts.
Love you Reva. Always.