Ramblin' Rose

A Tribute to Phoebee

Once I heard someone say, "Animals only belong in a barn." I disagree! If my mom would have been of that opinion, my childhood memories would not have been nearly as rich and unique....I wouldn't have experienced the joys or learned some very important life lessons, had I not been the keeper and had the companionship of many pets throughout the years.

For as long as I can remember I have lived with a pet or two... or three.... Pat, Red, Nicki, Midge, Retard, Salt, Pepper, Pywacket, Gyke, Daffy, Taffy, Ron Paul, Blackie, Putt, Chow, Kitty, Teasha, to name just a FEW.

Some were mine by association, others were truly mine.

Because of my experiences, our own kids have had the privilege, opportunity, responsibility .... of their own pets throughout the years. Our grandchildren are now creating their own memories in the world of pets.

Some of my most favorite were of the feline variety... in particular... the siamese cat.

I don't know, there's just something about a crooked tail, (which by the way, is a characteristic of a full blooded "seal" siamese) beautifully marked, blue-eyed siamese cat.

Add that unique personality... and you just gotta love 'em.

Mom said I inherited my love of animals from daddy.

That's true...but not entirely.

Story:

Dad built a cute little pond in the back yard; really dressed up the yard. Our mamma cat had kittens. Can you see where I'm going with this?

We walked out in the backyard one day and saw 3 of the kittens floating face down in the pond. We ran and told mom. She immediately retrieved the kittens, gave them mouth to mouth and revived every one of them.

This story is true!

So... I don't get ALL my animal lovin' from my Dad.

PHOEBEE

(Rachel spells it FEBEE)

However, the spelling "Phoebee", in my mind's eye, is indicative of the very Princess like mini-Pom that we had for 11 years.

Surviving a broken-leg (sustained in the first month we had her) which resulted in a trip to a specialized "mini-dog" surgeon in Salt Lake with an attached $1,000 price tag, and losing almost every tooth in her mouth, the front four (two on the top, two on the bottom...a norm for her small breed) are just there to keep her tongue in her mouth.

She has been loyal, forgiving, comforting, patient, hilarious at times, frustrating at times, well... I could just go through all the emotions.

She was fearlessly protective of me and Rachel (she was actually Rachel's dog). She would hide under the bed until I drove the car in the driveway...then run frantically, happily around and around until I walked through the front door. Never then, nor since then, have I ever been greeted so enthusiastically upon arriving at home.

Animals (in particular pets / cats and dogs):

You can step on their tails and they forgive you. You can forget to give them their daily ration of food, and they forgive you.

You can scold them and ignore them and they still love you. I mean what other living thing will immediately curl up on your lap and lick your hand after being ignored, missed a meal, and ultimately scolded and swatted. 

SHEESH

And now she is gone.

One Saturday afternoon in January, she just left home.

I know from experience and from information in books, that when animals sense they are going to die, they go find a secluded place.

She was old.

She had arthritis in her leg with the pin. It was painful in the cold. But she loved to run in the fresh air. Her asthma was getting worse and worse. She was coughing and wheezing almost constantly.

She was fragile. 

(Mini Pomeranians have a shortened life span due to their breed.)

I would have rather she had chosen to spend those final hours with someone who had loved and cared for her for the past 11 years....to curl up on my lap and just let me "stroke her to sleep".

But she chose solitude.

Her companion, Teasha, leaving her own warm, heated igloo, will occasionally slip into Phoebee's empty, cold igloo, and stay for just a moment or two.

Sometimes she will sit on the sidewalk and just gaze down the street...waiting.

She has noticeably lost some spark and energy. She looks and acts a much older.

This summer....we won't have that blasted permanent "trail through the lawn"...Phoebee's playful runway from the front yard to the backyard. Back and forth, back and forth.

Occasionally, I swear I can hear her bark...or hear her scratching on the patio door to be let in. It's called phantom sounds.

All other "noticeable" signs of life with her will eventually be gone, but her memory will stay with those who loved her and we will fondly talk ... and laugh about our days with Phoebee.