Screen Shot 2013-08-21 at 6.17.09 PM I’ve been meaning to write a post to introduce you to our darling puppy, Penny. I’d featured her in a few of my Friday Fave Fives, because she brought a whole lot of sunshine into my life. I felt that she deserved her own post, though, but I thought that I’d have lots of time to write it.

On this past Friday evening, I was feeling a little off and I ended up sharing my beef and veggie supper with Penny. She, of course, gobbled it up without even breathing. Oh, she loved special treats and this was no exception. I lay down and cuddled with her on the couch, like every evening, and looked over at Mike and said, “I really can’t believe we have a dog. She’s really some dog.” I’d said this every night before going to bed. Even after four months, I was awed to have such a little love in our lives.

I came out of my room later that night and Penny was cuddled up on the couch sound asleep instead of in her kennel where she’d happily slept every night before. She was so peaceful. I asked Mike about it and he said he’d forgotten to bring her up, but that she was such a good dog that it was fine. She wouldn’t get into any trouble, she’d proven herself to be trustworthy and should be able to sleep on the cot that she loved so much.

Saturday morning she played several exciting games of fetch with Raudhan and I, jumping right up onto my lap to chew on her toys when she wanted to take a break. After that, she played her most favourite game of terrorizing Milton, one of our only cats brave enough to hang around the big, hyper boxer. Milton, having gotten used to Penny, was equally pleased with this game, I’m sure. Then it was time for a lazy mid morning nap in the sun. Not long after lunch, sweet Penny was asking for the door, but I was finishing up a pear, which I happily ended up sharing with her. The older kids were outside playing and I took a few minutes to love her up before getting ready to let her out.

In a moment of distraction, Penny pushed past me where I was holding the door partly open as I tried to convince Ruadhan to please go get some clothes so we could go out, too. She stopped for a brief second on the step, looked back at me with a big grin on her face and bolted. Around the yard, and into the neighbour’s garden, where we’d often bring her from drinks from the hose on hot afternoons. Seeing no one was out there, back around our house she ran, ignoring my calls for her to come. Into the house I went to get her treats to lure her back.

Then we heard the breaks….

Time stood still for a moment and the I said, “Shit….Penny!” I ran through the house as fast as I could as the kids rounded the corner of the house from the outside, “NO, NO, NO!” they screamed.

As I ran down the steps, Liam pushed past me, screaming that he hated cars and hated people…..I knew, rounding the bush what I would see.

Devastation is really the only word to describe it. My sweet baby looked perfect, but she wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing. In a spilt second, she was gone – just like that. She’d been so happy and proud to be FREE and then she was just gone. I screamed and sobbed, and sobbed and screamed while the kids did the same. The gentlemen that hit her wanted my information for insurance. He wanted me to look at the front of his car. I was just numb and looked at him in shock. Then he left and I carried my darling over to the garden and wrapped her in a blanket. Hummingbirds buzzed around our ears as Morgaine and I sat together, held each other, and sobbed. In shock, I told my sister, who’d I’d been speaking to moments earlier. I had no idea what to do, every bone in my body wanted to bring Penny into the house and just love her up, cuddle her and breath in her warmth.

I cried, I cried for hours. Then I continued to break down at random moments for the next three days. I don’t really post about it here, but I’ve been struggling with depression and this move had been harder on me then I’ve let on. Penny, at times, had been my one reason for getting up on days when I figured the kids would do just a well without me. She was one to always, always give me love without judging. I wasn’t sure what I was ever going to do without her. How could I face my kids, when it was my one moment of inattention that had allowed her to escape? But I did face the kids, and we talked and held each other, and cried. The children made heartfelt letters to Penny, drew pictures, and had me sew items to lay with Penny. I went out soooooo many times that afternoon – just to check, you know – what if a miracle happened? What if I’d been wrong?

At 10pm , when Mike came home, we buried Penny under our rowan berry bush (mountain ash). With her blanket, favourite toy, cards and gifts from the kids. No tears. No fuss. Just numbness.

A few days have past now, and I’ve still cried today, but the moments are fewer and they are less intense. I can look at her picture and be happy that we got to have her as part of our family, even for such a short time. I’d love to introduce you to Penny:

Screen Shot 2013-08-21 at 6.59.08 PMPenny the day that she arrived. Such a puppy still. Totally happy to be cuddling in with the boys. 

Screen Shot 2013-08-21 at 7.02.54 PMOh, how she loved a rawhide bone – even though they were so messy. Anything for my little girlie pup. 

Screen Shot 2013-08-21 at 7.08.34 PMSo smart and happy to please. She was always learning new tricks and showing off her boxer antics. There was never a dull moment. 

Screen Shot 2013-08-21 at 7.11.48 PMPenny loved everyone, but she probably had a special place in her heart for our three year old, Ruadhan. 

Screen Shot 2013-08-21 at 7.12.51 PMYes, they were practically inseparable.

Screen Shot 2013-08-21 at 7.13.54 PMSo happy! Boxers love to pile up on one another and apparently they don’t mind being piled on by 30 pound 3 year olds either. 

Screen Shot 2013-08-21 at 7.20.16 PMShe was also convinced that she was just a tiny lap dog and was forever trying to climb up in your lap. She also gave the best hugs ever. She’d even sigh as she cuddled in up to you and relaxed. 

I’ll miss you, my beautiful girl. I so wish that we’d been able to have you in our lives longer. We’d look at you and say that we wished that you were a breed that was known for longevity – and not for generally, dying at a younger than average age. We never imagined for a moment that you would be taken so soon. I wish I’d been more careful, but my moment of inattention, paired with your crazy joy at freedom just happened to coincide with a time when a car happened to be coming down our mostly deserted highway. It was a horrible, terrible fluke and I’m so sad it happened, but you’ve shown me a love that I didn’t even know was possible. I love you, my sweetie. You were some dog.