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"Life doesn't have to be perfect to be wonderful."
- Unknown

"That which does not kill you, makes you stronger."
- Handed down through the ages.

"Life's tough. It's even tougher when you're stupid."
- John Wayne



Let Me Eat Cake

Well, it's my birthday today; my miffy-miffy-tuu-tuu as Grandma (Mama Pea's mama) called these special days.  It was 41 years ago today (at precisely 4:00 AM) that I, after over a day and a half of Mom's struggling, "popped" into the world.  (And, let's face it, starting and ever since then, I've never "popped" for anything.  I'm a take-'er-time kinda gal.  Much to Mom's chagrin.  I take after Dad in that respect.)


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.

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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.)


20 comments:

  1. Now everyone is staring at me when they pass my office door. That is so heartbreaking - all of it, Baby Pea. I soooo hope that all of the heartbreak will now be behind you. It is time that the sun shines on you. Love and hugs to you and Tucker.

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  2. Very sweet, sweet last pictures of Maisy Grace.

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  3. I knew this post was coming and I considered not reading it because I knew I would cry-but I felt like I HAD to read it. I'm so glad that Maisy is no longer in pain and my heart goes out to you. My very first dog also had cancer and I had to finally put her to sleep because she could not function and I can feel the pain you must be in- and on top of losing the house. This "lurker" sends love and healing thoughts your way ♥

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  4. I know it's not much help, but so many of us are thinking of you and your Maisy. You did the right thing by helping her on her way, it's difficult for us to do those things but such a gift to our critters when they are suffering.

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  5. Oh goodness you have my crying too! You are going through so much right now and are grieving for your losses. Don't expect too much from yourself. Pamper yourself a bit and be kind to yourself. {{{hugs}}}

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  6. Our hearts are reaching out to you, Chicken Mama, and to Tucker, too! So, so hard to lose such loving friends, and on top of all the rest, well, just ain't fair. Be confident in the knowledge that you advocated for Maisy when she couldn't speak for herself... a measure of how brave YOU are. Sending you healing thoughts from Cascade Bluff.

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  7. You were not alone, -thank you for letting us take that last precious journey with you

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  8. More tears here as well. Thanks for sharing your pain with us. Hugs to you. And have a better year so that next miffy-miffy-tuu-tuu you can celebrate.
    Judy

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  9. I'm so sorry you have had to lose a best friend while going through so many other things. It sounds like the time was definitely right though and everything fell into place and thankfully you were able to be there every step. No more pain, we should all be so lucky to have endings like that, surrounded by love. I don't even want to comment on the house, too much sadness for one day. Happy Birthday my friend, I'm awful with remembering even my own - I hope this birthday brings much renewal to your life, you deserve to have good fortune and personal happiness to go along with the loving family you already have. Hugs :)

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  10. Sending you and Tucker big hugs. RIP Maisy.

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  11. Hope you have a Happy Birthday, so sorry about Maisey, but you did what was best for her. Cherish your memories. Hopefully things will start working out and falling into place. I know it is frustrating loosing your home, but if you feel down, think of all the people recently that lost their homes and all their belongings to the wildfires. Once again, my grandma was right "Nothing's so bad it could not be worse". Take care, take it a day at a time.

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  12. BTW new header is a great tribute to Maisey.

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  13. I am so sorry for all the hardship you've had lately. I hope these endings signal a turning point where life will get easier and happier for you. Truly.

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  14. Oh, I don't even know what to say. My heart goes out to you. When they die, I don't ever want another one, because it's so hard to let them go, but then I get realistic and know that we are destined to share our lives with the furry creatures.
    Death is not an easy thing, and seeing someone that you love go slowly is tough. Be kind to yourself. Many hugs from a fellow animal lover.

    ~~Lori

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  15. Losing one's pet can certainly feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest. All of us who have gone through this feel your pain. We cannot relieve it but we can send our love and condolences to you. It just takes time to let your heart heal. I am so glad that you were able to be with her. It's a hard thing to do but it's nice that you could be with Maisy right to the end. I am sure she was comforted by that even though it was surely hard on you.

    I hope you can find some peace soon in all areas of your life. Happy belated birthday to you and may you have many more that will be much, much happier than this one. (I also am a July birthday girl.)

    By the way, I love your header photo also. I would think that that is exactly how you would want to remember Maisy ..... running like the wind with her best buddy. Just beautiful!!! Yep, now I am crying too.

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  16. Dearest Chicken Mama,
    Maisy couldn't have had a better death than the one you gave her--to be there with her right to the very end, wrapped around her. May we all be so lucky when our time comes. It doesn't make it any less painful for you and for Tucker, but she went peacefully. Maybe some day in the near future, when you have your new home chosen and settled, you can bring a pup in for Tucker to mentor and to have another pal to run with.

    And the photos of Maisy on her last day. Tears are the only response. Such a sweet, beautiful, well-loved dog. And the ones of a younger Maisy with her new pup family member, Tucker, are priceless. Maisy will return in a different form--my mother returned as a hummingbird. (Well, that's my interpretation.)

    Rest in peace, dear Maisy. You crossed the Rainbow Bridge on a most beautiful day. And had your family close by.

    And about your dream: I wouldn't interpret it as a loss of control but of letting go. You are letting go of things and surviving. Letting go can bring peace of mind, and a way to not stress about all you could stress about.

    Good luck in this next part of your journey, CM. Hugs to you and Tucker.

    And I'm not sure if your birthday was happy, but I hope you did celebrate in a way that worked for you.

    Mollie

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  17. I am not a crier and I am bawling right now. I'm going to go give our Lulu some love. :(

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  18. 'Just got back from a road trip and read this today. My heart breaks for you and all that you have gone though. Perhaps this past week is the final crescendo to your all too long ordeal. You have had enough. I am so sorry to hear of Maisy's suffering and passing. Please know that you are in our hearts and prayers during this time.-"M"

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  19. I have some thoughts on the house situation, although maybe you already know this stuff. After the foreclosure sale you enter the redemption period, which is typically 6 months in MN. Whoever bought your house at the auction (bank or individual) doesn't own it yet. You can still redeem the property by paying the auction amount plus a bunch of fees, etc. I'm sure you know that already and from the blog, I gather that this is not an option. You also have the right to sell the property, and this is where you may be able to benefit. If you sold the property, you would then pay off the auction amount plus fees, and you'd get to keep the remainder. Since you & your ex were the general contractor and did a lot of the work yourselves, you probably owed a lot less than the value of the house. The redemption period is your chance to redeem some equity. Here's an example.

    Your house is worth $100,000, the auction amount was $50,000, and the redemption fees another $10,000. If you sold for anything above $60,000 you get to keep the difference. In this example, if you "gave away" your house for $70,000, you would walk away with $10,000. Selling for 70% of value may sound like a bad deal, but $10,000 in your pocket is a whole lot better than the $0 that you get at the end of the redemption period.

    If I had equity in a foreclosed house, I would try VERY HARD to sell it. Even if it meant "giving it away". Having even $5000 at the end of this is so much better than nothing. Maybe have an agent do an auction with a reserve that gets you enough to pay off everything and keep $5000. But it MUST close before the end of the redemption period.

    Again, maybe you knew all this or maybe the equity isn't there in your situation. But I didn't want you to miss the opportunity for some money if this does apply to you.

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  20. Chicken Mama. I was just researching sheriffs sales after hearing the term for the first time from my lawyer and came across your post. I am going through something similar with my dissolution of marriage and can completely empathize with you. I am sorry to hear about your losses. I want to tell you that you deserve to be loved and adored. I was in your shoes and found someone through online dating who I now have to hold me while I sob about sheriffs sale in September. I am scared to death but know that I have to be strong and figure out a solution.

    It will get better for you, but you will have to take some risks to make it happen.

    Che

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