Shooting Stars

Note…. Today, I am taking a quick break from this long poetry series by posting the most recent poem that I composed about Rose, {and my grief, and my healing journey}….

A shooting star. That is an ultimate sign, {or God Wink}, from Rose assuring me that she is here, residing within my broken heart. Why? Because, last year, I witnessed three shooting stars alongside Rose, that is why. But, these amazing streaks of light are magical, like rainbows, and Santa Claus. I obviously cannot simply gaze up at the starry sky, and witness a shooting star. Very early last Wednesday morning, before visiting Rose’s, {and Shadow’s}, cement paw print stepping stones in our backyard, my broken heart, and my bleeding soul were feeling unsettled. I was not even looking for a shooting star. My eyes weren’t fixed on the sky, although I always, always, ALWAYS look up. I was just aimlessly walking past our patio. And there it was, caught in the corner of my eye, streaking across the sky at, like, one-hundred miles per hour, {or something like that}, a shooting star!! I gasped. Then, I did not believe my eyes. I witnessed a shooting star?! Then, I walked over to Rose’s cement paw print stepping stone, I traced my hand on her foot, and, {if memory serves me correctly}, I said: ‘Thanks for the visit, Rosey….’ I felt like she said: ‘I’m here, Mama. Everything is going to be alright.’ Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

We witnessed a shooting star last August;

But you were scatterbrained, it was missed;

Well, we saw a shooting star last Summer;

Trust me…. It was truly not a bummer!!

But you were sniffing the ‘midnight’ ground;

Just like a Beagle mix, just like a hound;

They were two separate shooting stars;

Don’t you love seeing something from afar?!

We saw a shooting star last September;

It felt magical, do you remember?

Yes, yes…. You were far too distracted;

But I was eternally impacted!!

I witnessed a shooting star this morning;

It happened when grief struck without warning;

My heart, soul, and mind were unsettled;

Like a wilting rose with falling petals;

Babe, I was visiting your paw prints;

That stepping stone, my eternal present;

I was not searching for anything;

I just looked toward the stars twinkling;

And there it was, a God Wink from you;

Your ultimate sign in this day anew;

You said: ‘I’m here, Mama, I’m here….’;

I heard your message loud and clear;

I said: ‘Thanks for the visit, Rosey….’;

You are my ‘Comfort Dog’, my Baby.

Bonding All Morning And Afternoon

Note…. I wrote this journal entry on August 15^th, 2020.

Today marks two months since Rose was euthanized. TWO MONTHS. Now that I have lost a dog, and sent her to The Rainbow Bridge, {or Doggy Heaven}, twice throughout my Life, {both were euthanized on June 15^th, but there was ten years time between Shadow’s death, and Rose’s passing}, I am remembering the complicated feelings, emotions, thoughts that August brings. It is all coming back. I am remembering the complicated feelings, emotions, thoughts that two months brings. I miss Rose so bad it hurts. I wish that I could bake her dog cookies. I would give anything to stroke Rose’s velvet-soft fur again. I wish I could purchase her dog treats at PetsMart or Target. I imagine that Ree Drummond, {The Pioneer Woman}, has even more dog treats available at Wal-Mart that Rose loved so much. She tried them all before her kidney disease diagnosis on January 8^th, {yes, 2020 has been a LONG year}, and she could no longer ingest lots of protein/sodium. Today, {two months into this grief journey}, I miss the sound of Rose’s ‘Beagle’ bark, and her excitable hound dog bay. Yes, I am remembering the complicated feelings, emotions, thoughts that August brings. It is all coming back. Yes, I am remembering the complicated feelings, emotions, thoughts that two months brings. On one paw, {pun intended}, I miss Rose so bad it hurts. But on the other paw, {pun intended}, I also miss having a dog. Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

--Part Two--

On my necklace, ‘REMEMBER’ is engraved;

Through grief’s journeys, it’s helped me to be brave;

My Rose, I will remember June fifteenth;

It’s a special date, you know what I mean?

I will remember my last day with you;

I snapped final pictures, more than a few;

I will remember bonding all morning;

And afternoon as you were sleeping;

I will remember sitting on my bed;

I touched your hind paws, soon you’d be dead.

June Fifteenth

Positive…. One good thing about the coronavirus global pandemic, {and, as resulted, Sheltering In Place}, is that I have not had to walk past the pet isles at Target on my way toward purchasing chocolate. If memory serves me right, {and I have not shopped at Target since, like, February}, their pet isles, and chocolate isles are basically nearby each other. An unexpected wave of grief has not washed over my broken heart, my bleeding soul, because I cannot purchase Rose dog treats anymore. I have imagined how it would play out…. I’d walk past the dog treats isles at Target where I’ve been literally countless times before. My heart would break, my soul would bleed. In an effort to temporarily escape grief, I’d do a beeline toward the CD isles at Target, where I’d purchase Bob Dylan’s newest album, Rough and Rowdy Ways. Why? Because retail therapy feels so good, that is why. Am I right? Then, in an effort to truly feel my broken heart, my bleeding soul, my grief, {because doing so is good for healing}, I would wander toward the pet isles in Target again. I’d stare at those boxes of ‘Animal Cookie’ crunchy dog biscuits that I used to purchase Rose. I would see Target brand’s rawhide bones which she uncharacteristically snubbed. I’d notice dog treats that I’ve never purchased Rose before, as a heart-stabbing sign that Life is moving forward without her. But thanks to the Stinkin’ Virus, {as my youngest brother, Michael, likes to call it}, I have not shopped at Target since February, {thanks, also, to Sheltering In Place}, so I have not felt the need to impulsively purchase an Our Generation doll at Target, either, simply because retail therapy feels so good. I am sure that Target misses me, {and my money}, kind of like how I miss Rose. Am I right? Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

--Part One--

On my necklace, ‘REMEMBER’ is engraved;

Through grief’s journeys, it’s helped me to be brave;

My Rose, I will remember June fifteenth;

It’s a special date, you know what I mean?

I remember June fifteenth, 2010;

Because Shadow was euthanized back then;

I will remember one decade later;

Yes, on June fifteenth, your death occurred;

I will remember dreading this sad date;

And yet loss, I could not procrastinate;

I will remember planning this sad day;

‘Cause you had to die in June, anyway;

I will remember how this date felt ‘right’;

As you and Shadow met in the sunlight….

You Were A Good Girl

 An e-mail from PetsMart. Who knew that it could ‘ambush’ me? Three weeks ago, I received an e-mail from PetsMart about my monthly treats statement for July. They obviously do not know that Rose is dead. A few months ago, this would have meant absolutely nothing to me. I’d simply delete my e-mail, and carry on. But this time, I felt the unexpected pains of grief. See, I purchased Rose literally countless natural and/or organic dog treats from PetsMart throughout her Life. It hit me hard emotionally that I cannot buy Baby Girl crunchy biscuits there anymore. I miss purchasing Rose dog treats. I felt a sudden urge to drive straight to PetsMart, {even though I have not been there since before the coronavirus}, and explain to somebody that Rose died, so can they stop sending me monthly treats statements…. Seeing those e-mails hurts so bad. But I didn’t. Right now, Rose has every single treat that her little heart desires at The Rainbow Bridge—especially chocolate—because it can no longer kill her…. Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

Did I softly say: ‘You were a good girl….’?

There was no need…. You knew you were my world;

I said so when we rested daily on my bed;

Multiple times before you were claimed dead;

Did I softly say: ‘….one of the best dogs ever….’?

You knew that, and I do not think I did, never;

I said so when we were in our bedroom;

Where pretty roses outside the window bloom;

Did I softly say: ‘Rosalita, I love you….’?

There was absolutely no need…. ‘Cause this, you knew;

Did I softly say: ‘You were a good girl….’?

It’s Been An Honor And A Privilege

Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows. -- Helen Keller

Search for the positives. That is how I try to be in Life. During this coronavirus global pandemic, I have read several true stories about survivors. Search for the positives. Ever since Rose was euthanized on June 15^th, {which was nearly two very long months ago}, I have been on the lookout for signs from Rose. Also known as God Winks. Rose has given me literally countless signs, {or God Winks}, since she died. Do I need any signs, {or God winks}, from Rose saying that she is alright? No. Rose is running free at The Rainbow Bridge, of course she’s alright!! I believe in life after death, so Baby Girl is alive!! As is Shadow before her!! Do I need any signs, {or God winks}, from Rose proving that she is still here, with me, living in my heart? Yes. Two days ago, I was searching Online for something that said: ‘If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever’. And then, I found it…. A mug that has this sentiment in PURPLE lettering, which just so happened to be Rose’s color. That was my sign, {or my God Wink}, from Rose!! Why? Because, if my love could have saved Rose from her degenerative myelopathy, she would have lived forever, that is why. Or so it feels. But I believe that God knows exactly how long His animals will walk on this Earth. Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

--Part Four--

I softly said: ‘It’s been an honor and a privilege….’

This was after you had travelled to The Rainbow Bridge;

I traced my fingers down a dent between your eyes;

Once big, they were mostly closed, death was realized;

I softly said: ‘It’s been an honor and a privilege….’

To your spiritual soul this was my message;

I touched those floppy velvet-soft ears that I loved;

On your body which was my favorite part of;

I softly said: ‘It’s been an honor and a privilege to care for you….’

Running Free

An escape artist. Those three words would describe Rose. Because she was, like, seventy-five percent Beagle, {based on my guess}, she was, like, twenty-five percent German Shepherd, {again, based on my guess}, and definitely one-hundred percent hound dog, yes, Rose could be an escape artist!! Our backyard has secure fences all around it…. If the front door was wide open, Rose would be safe in a room…. During extended family gatherings at our house such as Thanksgiving, {or Easter}, Rose’s collar would even be connected to Shadow’s ‘hand-me-down’ red leash, and my wrist. I continuously watched her like a hawk!! As resulted? Rose only had a few escape attempts, {I can literally count them on one hand}, all of which were unsuccessful disappearances!! This morning, I was visiting Rose’s, {and Shadow’s}, paw print stepping stones. I wondered: What if my first dog, Shadow, was always protecting Rose from escaping, {and running away}, from our house, from our backyard, from our family? What if Shadow was always watching over Rose? Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

--Part Three--

I softly said: ‘These legs are running free now….’

As I touched your right hind limb, this was my vow;

At that moment, I painted a lovely picture;

As I sat, and stroked your dead body’s soft fur;

Rose…. I softly said: ‘You’re finally running free….’

Those legs are moving with great velocity!!

Those long legs and those paws that I very much loved;

They are as free as a bird in the skies above!!

I softly said: ‘These legs are running free now….’

This Heart Broke, This Soul Bled

‘You cry on the inside.’ That is exactly what my Grandma, {who is in Heaven}, once told me. I think this was one of the best things that Grandma, {my Dad’s Mom}, ever said to me. She was absolutely right. I do cry on the inside. See…. I am not a physical crier. I have known this throughout most of my Life. And yet, I am an emotional being. I’m introspective. I feel way too much. I can grieve hard. My heart breaks, and my soul bleeds, but an onlooker will never know it, because, {like Grandma said}, I cry on the inside. Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

--Part Two--

I softly said: ‘It comforts you….’ And, I, I did not cry;

As I massaged your throat while you were euthanized;

Rose…. I’d been grieving your death for one long year;

I have already cried, I have already shed tears;

I softly said: ‘It comforts you….’ I did not want to cry;

So, my emotions, feelings, and thoughts were in disguise;

‘Cause you absolutely hated it whenever I wept;

So, I suppose to myself every emotion I kept?

Although this heart broke, this soul bled, on that day when you died;

I softly said: ‘It comforts you….’ And I wish I had cried….

Princess Rose Elizabeth

‘Dogs leave paw prints on our hearts’. Every morning, {when I awake}, and every night, {before I go to bed}, I trace my hand on Rose’s clay paw print that our veterinary clinic created after Baby Girl was euthanized. And every morning, {very early}, I step outside, where I trace my hand on Rose’s, {and Shadow’s}, cement paw print stepping stone in our backyard that Mom and I created at home several years ago. How is it even possible that I now have TWO Beautifully Unique mutts running free side-by-side at The Rainbow Bridge? ‘Dogs leave paw prints on our hearts’. And, {apparently, because I have several pictures of them}, I absolutely loved Rose’s paws. This morning, as I was visiting Rose’s, {and Shadow’s}, cement paw print stepping stones, I could hear birds singing. And I wondered: Do people’s pet birds who have flown toward The Rainbow Bridge sing lovely melodious songs there every single morning? This is the second poem that I composed after Rose died. It’s Part One of Four, plus, {because I can}, there is also a Bonus poem. Peace and Love, Mary Lou

One month. That is how long it has been since Rose was euthanized. Thirty days. Time has passed by that simultaneously feels like it happened twenty-four hours ago, and yet, also several years ago. I miss Rose. I would give anything just to stroke her velvet-soft fur one more time…. 

  

2020. I officially declare this a year of Life and Death for my little, {yet ever-growing}, family. My sister-in-law’s Mom lost her short battle with cancer in March. Rose was euthanized on June 15^th. Death…. And, very recently, I was blessed with another baby niece whose alias is ‘Ruby’!! Life…. Now, I have nieces ‘Amethyst’, ‘Opal’, nephew ‘Capricorn’, and, of course, ‘Ruby’!!

Edited by Kara Kent!!

--Part One--

I softly said: ‘Princess Rose Elizabeth….’

While you inhaled your final breath;

Those were my last spoken words, obviously;

Then, you looked so serene and ‘slept’ peacefully;

After I said: ‘Princess Rose Elizabeth….’

Doctor spoke: ‘She’s gone’, to announce your death;

And then, I softly said: ‘I love my hound dog….’

Rose…. My heart is broken, my head in a fog;

I softly said: ‘Princess Rose Elizabeth….’

Watch Over My Best Friend While We Are Apart

Do you suppose that Rose, {who always possessed a very curious black nose}, has by now happily explored every single rainbow, every single bridge, {see what I just did here…. Rainbow Bridge?}, every single woodland area, every single mountain, every single valley, every single waterfall, every single lake, every single river, every single stream, every single creek, every single field, every single park, every single beach, and every single ocean at The Rainbow Bridge as my first dog, Shadow, has watched Rose closely, {and run freely beside her}, to make sure that Rose does not escape from The Rainbow Bridge? I think so…. For some reason, the thought of Rose now spending literally every single second with Shadow brings my grieving broken heart comfort. I cannot explain why. This was the first of many poems that I composed after Rose died. Yes, yes…. I’ve become a prolific poet as I Shelter In Place. Apparently, I grieve through writing. Not surprising, but who knew? Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

‘Watch over my best friend while we are apart’;

That’s Shadow’s huge mission now that you live in my heart;

She will be your new Mama, your companion;

See that you don’t escape The Rainbow Bridge, and stay in;

Shadow will provide your ‘human’ food, your treats;

Ah, you always loved cheddar cheese, so bon appétit;

Shadow will now serve as your new caregiver;

And be a canine guardian angel forever;

Rose, you will feel so loved you’ll never miss me;

Your now-healed hind legs are both running free!!

‘Watch over my best friend while we are apart’;

That’s Shadow’s big mission now that you live in my heart.

Degenerative Myelopathy

How do you return from yet another LONG disappearance without your Beautifully Unique Beagle/German Shepherd mix sleeping soundly on the bed? {Well…. She would have been sleeping soundly before a BOOMING, heart-stopping, loud firework just randomly exploded}. On Monday, June 15^th, 2020, {yes, yes, nearly three LONG weeks ago}, Rose Elizabeth, {also known as Rosey/Rosalita}, was euthanized. This poem expresses where I have been all this time…. Becoming Rose’s Caregiver/Physical Therapist/Nurse/Doctor, and then eventually watching her swiftly slip away from me during the global coronavirus pandemic’s timeline. 2020 sucks. This poem was the last one that I composed before Rose died. Peace and love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

‘Today, I consider myself the luckiest Mutt Mom on the face of this Earth.’ -- Me, {also known as Rose’s Mama}

Degenerative myelopathy;

Oh, Rose, this has caused disabilities;

First, it was the left hind leg, then the right;

But, you’re resilient, and you fight;

Degenerative myelopathy;

It’s basically ALS in doggies;

Your hind legs give way and you collapse;

Are they getting paralyzed, perhaps?

Degenerative myelopathy;

Also known as ‘German Shepherd disease’;

For one year, I’ve watched you grow old;

And witnessed this disease swiftly unfold;

Degenerative myelopathy;

It does not care about pedigrees;

For three months, I’ve watched you slip away;

As your ‘time’ draws closer every day;

Degenerative myelopathy;

But, at The Rainbow Bridge, you will be free….

“Grampa’s Lap”

This has been a REALLY LONG month. First, I battled the flu, despite getting my ineffective shot. Then—as soon as I was no longer sick, or contagious—I devoted at least three weeks toward recovery from that nasty viral infection. I hip swayed/danced/cut loose to Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan every single day. I chased my nieces, Opal, and Amethyst through a huge playground called ‘Ninja Park’. I repeatedly descended the stairs at church on Sundays in an effort to literally get out of breath. {We do not have a basement…. My family and I reside in our one-level home}!! You know, sort of like respiratory physical therapy? I did anything I could to rebuild the strength in my lungs!! But then, on Saturday, March 23^rd, I caught a chest cold. Now? I have been suffering from asthma attacks again. Now? I have been trying to breathe. Now? I have been basically fighting to stay alive. Thank God for modern medication, because I do have an Albuterol inhaler!! It feels like I took one step up forward and two steps back. But, compared to the flu, the common cold is a walk in the park!! Meanwhile? I will ‘keep on keepin’ on like a bird that flew’, to quote Bob Dylan!! Peace out, Mary Lou

I have been missing my Grampa, who lost his long and arduous battle with various cancers, a lot lately. Is it because March 19^th marked three years since he passed away? I do not know. Has the fact that some dear and close friends of ours who have recently been walking down the road of losing their Husband/Dad/Grandpa to cancer hit home emotionally for me? I do not know. Either way, I have been missing Grampa. I composed this poem several years ago, {long before he ever suffered from cancer}, and, to this day, I wish that I showed it to him. Sigh…. I was making up my own rules and experimenting back then as a poetess. This poem kind of sucks…. But the sentiment is absolutely sincere!! As a girl growing up, I used to say that Grampa’s lap was ‘comfortable’ whenever I sat on it…. Hence my inspiration for this poem….

“Grampa’s Lap”

Edited by Kara Kent!!

I sat on Grampa’s lap;
As his arms enwrapped;
Around me;
With love, and safety;
Now I’m grown up;
Decades have passed;
But memories last;
As I sat on Grampa’s lap;
His arms enwrapped;

Around me.

“Law-Breakin’, Rule-Breakin’ Elf”

{This is a conversation that I had with my nine-year old second cousin—and her Mama, Teira—on Christmas Eve….}

“{Kids} aren’t supposed to touch The Elf on the Shelf, but {my five-year old niece, Opal} loves playing with {Sweet Tooth}, so he’s a rebel!!” I said.

“Yeah, I accidentally touched {Trixie}, so we’re a little worried that {our gender neutral Elf on the Shelf} won’t make it back to the North Pole tonight….” said Teira.

“If I remember correctly, the book did not say that grownups can’t touch Elves on the Shelf,” I stated, “It said that children can’t touch him {or them}!!” I said.

“See?” Teira said to her fretting little girl, “{Trixie is} fine!!”

“I read somewhere Online that if {children} touch The Elf on the Shelf, then cinnamon will {bring back} their magic!!” I told my second cousin, “I don’t know if that means lay the elf in cinnamon, or…. That’d be kinda messy!! But {I read that} cinnamon works!!”

So by now, you have ‘met’ Sweet Tooth, my chocolate addicted, and sugar-obsessed Elf on the Shelf!! {Read previous poem!!} When I mentioned that Sweet Tooth has an incredibly huge personality for a little guy…. Well…. I will let Volume Two of my poems about Sweet Tooth explain!! Peace out, Mary Lou

P.S. For those who do not celebrate Christmas, happy Hanukah {which ended on December 10^th}, happy Winter Solstice {which occurred on December 21^st}, happy Kwanzaa, and, of course, happy New Year!!

Note…. I had a plan. I was going to have this poem written—and posted—on Christmas Day. But I struggled with cosmic Writer’s Block!! Needless to say, Volume Two of my poems about Sweet Tooth was not lifting up off of the ground!! Then, on Christmas morning, I awoke at an ungodly hour with excitement within my heart, chocolate within my system, and the first verse within my soul!! I had a liftoff!! It took me three days—apparently, my Creative Powers work best in the mornings when I am composing poems—who knew?

“Law-Breakin’, Rule-Breakin’ Elf”

Written by Mary Lou…. Edited by Kara Kent!!

There are important, and strict, laws;

Which were written by Santa Claus;

If I’m a North Pole citizen;

Then I can’t be touched by children;

Or I will lose all my magic;

And I can’t return to St. Nick;

But Opal loves playing with me;

She’s touched my hat, arms, and belly;

I am a law-breakin’, biker jacket-wearin’, motorcycle-ridin’ rebel!!

These are particular rules;

That I was taught in Elf School;

I can’t speak to anybody;

Not Opal, not little Bobby;

But these are children who seem nice;

I gave Opal some good advice;

‘Obey Mom and Dad on one take’;

Do not be ‘bad for badness sake’;

I am a rule-breakin’, biker jacket-wearin’, motorcycle-ridin’ rebel!!

Yes, there are significant laws;

Which were written by Santa Claus;

Christmas Eve, I can’t be here;

To ‘the Boss’, I reappear;

In Mary’s bedroom, I will stay;

And stay until New Year’s Day;

To the North Pole, I can’t go back;

I’ve been shunned from my Scout Elf pack;

I am a law-breakin’, rule-breakin’, biker jacket-wearin’, motorcycle-ridin’ rebel!!