Ruby Roo

 Ruby Roo came into our life suddenly.  My daughter had been looking on the shelter website and there she was.  I had never had a dog.  Our family had never had a dog.  I remember feeling nervous about it but there was something about her and so the next morning, we went to the shelter and brought her home.  She spent the whole trip home standing between the two front seats and licking my husband and I.  When she got to our house, she claimed the leather recliner as her own.  How could we say no?

She was two years old when we met her.  We had her in our lives for nine.  She helped my son overcome his fear of dogs.  She slept with my kids.  She made us laugh.  She frustrated us at times.  She was an awful leash walker.  She loved snow.  She didn't really care for the beach or the lake.  She ran away from our home three times but only because she wanted to explore.  We forgave her when we found her trotting along with a big smile on her face.  On the first day in our new house, she pooped in our bedroom.  She loved going to Auntie Tracy's house when we went on vacation.  She was needy and anxious and begged for treats from our neighbor.  She was there for us when we felt sad.  She ran fast and chased squirrels.  She chased a chipmunk out of our basement once.  She snuggled with us.  She listened to us.  She loved us deeply even we when were ugly.  It's the reason, I believe, that dog spelled backwards is god.

And so she left us almost as suddenly as she entered our lives.  I know she's not in pain anymore but I'm struggling with the decision to put her down.  We all miss her terribly.  The house is incredibly quiet.  There were days when I couldn't stand the sound of her nails on the floor and now I wish I could.  We still catch ourselves locking the garbage can in the kitchen.  I catch myself thinking I forgot to let her out one more time before bed.  I swear I hear her whining at the bottom of the stairs for me.  I swore I saw her come to the fence the other day when I came home from work.  I guess all that will change with time.  I'll be able (someday) to look at pictures of her without crying.

She was a wonderful little soul.  Everyone who met her, loved her.  She was gentle and loved unconditionally.  She brought us joy and comforted us when we were sad.  We'll never forget her.  We are thankful for what she gave us.

Letter From A Mother to a Bully

Dear Bully Bitch,

Hello.  Let me introduce myself.  I'm the mother of the girl you loosely called a friend.  You know...the one you tortured with hurtful words and twisted plots to alienate her from anyone wanting to be her true friend.  The beautiful, independent, strong-willed young lady you slowly broke, making her feel small, unworthy, fat, ugly, insignificant.  The one who holed herself up in her room day after day.  The one who used every excuse in the book to stay home from school.  The one whose grades started falling, who begged to take online classes in order to avoid your abuse.  The one who didn't enjoy her senior year, who probably prayed that it would end.  The one who suffered in silence because she didn't want to make it worse.  The one who had all her friends turn their backs on her because they were too fearful to take a stand.  Who could blame them, I guess.  It was widely rumored that standing up to you would mean similar punishment.

I'm her mother.  I brought her into this world and watched her dance to her own beat from day one.  So imagine how I felt (difficult as it may be for you) when I saw her slip into this dark space for more than a year.  Silly me.  Why would you care?  By then, you had turned all her friends against her, ripped her of her confidence, and were busy building up your "perfect life" on social media.  You're lucky I didn't rip your face off.

It's been almost two years.  She is finally returning to her true self.  Finally has her confidence back now that she doesn't have your toxicity in her life.  Your goal to completely destroy her didn't work.  She's making a comeback.  There was a time when I absolutely despised you.  When I would have liked to have seen you suffer.  Now, I sometimes feel pity for you.  You were born into a chaotic life, I know.  You are the result of your upbringing.  You want people to feel the pain you have felt in your young life.  It doesn't make it right.  You always have a choice.  You could have chosen to be a better person.  I believe in your quiet moments, you know your wrong doings.  God whispers them to you.

But mostly I don't think of you at all.  What I think of is how my daughter found her way back to the light of life, stronger and smarter.  She has gained an understanding of how not to treat people.  She has learned what she doesn't want in a friend.  She has learned what she can endure.  She has found herself.  She's taking her life back and has no time for anyone like you.  She will go on and find her unique space in this world while you remain wicked and envious and shallow and lonely.

Good luck with that,

K