Keisha - In Memorial

I have found it difficult over the past month to write about Tuxedo. I have a heavy heart over the death of Keisha, my niece K.W.’s dog, who lived in our compound. She was a small, red mixed Chihuahua with perky ears. She came into our lives at four months old.

Keisha was the sweetest dog I have ever known. She loved her owner K.W. with a passion. She would bark every time K.W. was in, or even near the house. She wouldn’t stop until her owner was with her. K.W. would walk around the house, and Keisha would be directly at her side. She was always happy, always. Her smile was infectious.

Keisha’s personality was so sweet. She loved attention. Whenever the entire family was together, she would go to each of us for her head to be petted. After getting affection from us, she would lie down next to K.W. as we watched a movie or played games. It was always a pleasure to talk to her and rub her head.

Keisha even got along with other pets. I remember when Keisha first met my sister E.G.’s dog Jordan. They were both puppies. She went right up to him and started sniffing. Let’s say Jordan is a bit anti-social. Still, whenever Keisha visited my sister, she always tried to be friends with Jordan. Over the years, Jordan softened, and decided to co-exist with Keisha when she visited. Keisha in turn, respected Jordan’s space.

She lived with two large cats, and was a friend to Tuxedo. She played rough and tumble with them. She would sit down and let them wash her every day with their tongues. I could often hear them running and jumping around the house. It was clear that they loved each other.

When K.W.’s daughter G.M. was born, Keisha loved her too. Everyone knows a dog allows children to ‘abuse’ them without biting back. She let my toddler niece get away with things that were incredible to me. She followed G.M. around like a body guard.

Eleven year-old Keisha died on Thursday, August 12, 2011 of a heart attack in the waiting room of the animal hospital. K.W., G.M. and I had taken her there for x-rays for her heart condition. I guess the trip getting there was too much for her. It happened so fast. Her last view was of her beloved girls, K.W. and G.M.. I know we did everything that could have been done for her. I know it was her time to go, but her death still hurts and cuts into me.

I know she was up in age, but I wasn’t ready for Keisha to die. Every day I expect to hear her bark. I miss seeing her smile as I pet her head. Her presence in the house was strong. She added joy to our lives.

It’s been 6 weeks, and I am trying to move on from Keisha’s death. I miss her so much. I grieve for her, even as my life with Tuxedo has flourished. As I struggle to accept the Circle of Life, my memories of Keisha will never fail. Rest in Peace, little one.

The Ratty Toy Mouse Part 2 - #36

I was doing some cleaning when I discovered Tuxedo’s ratty toy mouse in a corner under my bed where she sleeps. Everybody together now – Awwwww!

Then I thought – wait a minute. Here I was feeling sorry for Tuxedo all these weeks, thinking she was upset over losing that ratty toy mouse. I looked all around the house for it. And she had it under my bed all along.

I brought it out into the open so she could play with it. It soon disappeared again, but not back under the bed. She put it somewhere else where I guess I won’t easily find it.

Now the stolen mouse is under the bed. I guess my Tuxedo wants a toy mouse to sleep with, like a small child with a teddy bear. She must have another private place where I can’t or won’t confiscate it.

That is soooo cute!

Looking Out for Tuxedo # 35

The inevitable happened today. I tripped over Tuxedo. Rather, I apparently stepped on her because she gave out a giant yelp. I jumped, she ran, and I fell on my living room couch. Half on, half off, I was unable to get a good grip on the couch to stand up.

Did I say I fell like a ton of cement bricks?  As I am very overweight, I couldn’t get my fat carcass up from the couch. Of course, Tuxedo knew nothing about my arthritic knees preventing me from just standing up from a prone position. So she just grazed her arched back on my legs several times before she lay down beside me on the floor.

It took me over 15 minutes to get off the couch. I felt like a beached whale. My knees just couldn’t support the weight I was carrying to get me upright again. I finally took three giant breaths of air, held on to the end of the couch for dear life, and forced myself upright.

I was on my way to getting some water for my ibuprofen. Once I could stand up, I needed to get my balance back. Then I limped to the refrigerator, retrieved a bottle of water, and went painfully into bed.

I vow to rejuvenate my diet. For every ten pounds overweight it’s like adding 50-60 extra pounds on the knees. I felt every overweight pound hold me down. I have a long way to go. Still, I have a good reason other than I need to lose weight. I suspect I have many years of tripping over Tuxedo ahead of me.

Tuxedo Has Given Me a Bed Curfew # 34

Lately I have been on a writing roll, staying up until as early as 5 am. I guess Tuxedo decided that she’d had enough of my burning the midnight oil. Now, between 1 am and 2, she shows up and makes me go to bed. She walks all over the laptop, meows while hitting me with her head, and generally makes a pest of herself.

I don’t know why she chose this particular time for me to go to bed. But it’s been working. Rather than put up with her bullying, I go to bed around ‘her’ bedtime. I have to admit that getting the extra sleep has worked for me.

Today at six thirty in the morning, I heard tuxedo meowing for me. She does this from time to time, but not so early. As I was tired, I ignored her meows. I knew she had plenty of water and food. I hate getting up at six-thirty in the morning, so I tried to sleep through her noise.

Soon the meowing stopped. But a few minutes later, I felt her playing with my hand. I couldn’t ignore that, and I felt she really wanted me to get up. So I opened my eyes and saw her playing with my hand, and I played with her for about ten minutes.

Tuxedo then stood up and hopped off the bed. That spoiled feline woke me up at six-thirty in the “hell no!” morning to play with her for ten minutes! What cheekiness! She is so spoiled, and I can’t say anything because I caused it.

Note to Self – Start sleeping with my hands under the covers.

 

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