It's also the day that I officially lose the house. And 40 acres. The sheriff's sale happened exactly 2 hours and 21 minutes ago, at 10:00 AM this morning. And, I'm hoping that another party appeared at the sale and made a higher bid (and won) than the credit union's required bid for the amount of the mortgage. Since it has to go, I'd like this place to go to someone right away . . . rather than sit dormant and decaying for years and years . . . as I suspect will happen due to its remoteness, off-grid system and the current real estate & economic market. I'll inquire about that when I'm ready to.
It's been miserably hot these past many days, and, even though another storm came through late yesterday and cooled things down, I didn't sleep solidly, as I'd hoped. I haven't slept well in days due to the heat. And, I've been having lots of dreams about the ex lately. I suppose it's no coincidence, what with the house sale and all that. I also dreamed last night that I was driving down a long valley in the hills of southern California on a beautiful day, trying to hold a 4' x 12' maple butcher block counter top onto the top of the Yaris with only my left hand extended out the window and up to the roof of the car. It was no easy feat, let me tell you! And, it was super windy (in the dream). Suddenly, a huge gust grabbed the counter top out of my hand, lifting it up to the underside of an overpass where it smashed and then dropped onto the side of a late model sedan driving underneath. The driver wasn't injured, but insurance info swapping ensued . . . and that's all I remember. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the meaning of this dream: lack of control, wouldn't you say? Ugh.
BUT, I'm really hoping and assuming that the worst of everything is over with today and the sheriff's sale. Now, all I have to focus my extra (not at work) time on are two things: my business(es) and moving. So, in a bizarre way, I'm looking forward to that. What's done is done. Now it's time to move on.
And, as many of you heard from Mama Pea, Maisy is gone. It happened on the 25th, a week ago this past Monday. I'd been up all night the night before with such severe tummy troubles that I actually wondered if I was having a heart attack (acid reflux). My meds are all screwed up right now as a result of me not having been able to get down to the doctor (AND my doctor retired so I have to meet with a new one) to get them renewed. So, I haven't been feeling well, physically. Anyway, I'd only gotten about 3 1/2 hours of sleep that night and got into work about 15 or 30 minutes late. I was trying to get a big book order placed or unpacked, I forget which, and I'd soon decided that I would go home, sick, as soon as I got it done. But, by 11:00 I was crying as I worked, and I couldn't stop the tears. I was miserable. (I think I was scaring the customers, anyway!) It was one of those days when I just couldn't keep the control. When the employee matriarch came to check on me as I was trying to staunch the tears up in the office, I sobbed, "I'm feel awful andI'mlosingmyhouseonmybirthdayand . . . !" Oi vey. I rarely lose it like that, but that Monday was the fateful day. So, I cut and ran.
Over that previous weekend, I'd already made an appointment for Maisy with the local vet (for that coming Tuesday). I knew that it was finally time for her to go. This vet is not a favorite of mine, but I've assisted (another friend a couple of years ago) with the euthanasia of her two old girls, and she DOES handle those difficult situations brilliantly. Plus, I didn't want Maisy to have to make the long car ride to and then, gone, back from the good (terrific!) vet in Canada . . . just for that. And, I wasn't sure if I COULD transport her back to the U.S. after she was gone.
Anyway, when I got to my folks' that Monday morning to pick Maisy and Tucker up to head home early, Maisy, from where she was laying in the shade overlooking Mom's huge garden, didn't want to get up.
Tucker was never far away.
Immediately forgetful of how *I* felt, I called the vet, who is always impossible to catch "live", and left a voicemail asking if we could get in now . . . instead of waiting until tomorrow? She called me back immediately - I think it was meant to be - and said that yes, she could get us in a 1:00.
So, we lay together in the shade for an hour.
Then, it was time to go.
I'd asked the vet if it could be done in the back of my car instead of Maisy undergoing the stress of having to go into the clinic, with all those smells, etc. She, kindly and thankfully, agreed.
This is the last picture of sweet Maisy Grace, taken in the back of the car in the vet's parking lot, shaded by a tree, as I sat with my body curled around her. It was such a relief to see that she was ready. 110% ready. After the vet administered the sedative, she seemed to slide into complete relaxation almost immediately. I think it was a relief to her, to Maisy, to get a break from what her body had been so strongly trying to fight.
I'd spent a lot of time with my hand over her heart those past couple of weeks: it often pounded SO strongly, trying to fight the cancer. Perhaps too strongly, I think, as that's what was keeping her going. Anyway, I wanted my hand to be placed over her heart so I could feel its last beat. I was petting her as the vet administered the second needle, and I moved my hand to her heart as soon as the syringe was depressed. And, in that blink of the eye, her heart had already stopped. I didn't get to feel the final beat. But it was okay. Totally okay. Because Maisy had finally been able to let go. And she was, so very obviously, ready.
* * * * *
I returned to Mama & Papa Pea's to pick up Tucker. (Geez, NOW I start crying in this story??!) Tucker curled up in his usual spot next to the body of his lifelong sister, mentor, his everything, and we took Maisy home.
I'm worried for poor little Pooper. He's sad. He's never known a d-a-y without Maisy (after he came to live with us).
Okay, I feel like I could throw up now, so I'm gonna go. Thanks for taking this journey with me. (Sad smile.)