Today I donned my new bikini and headed out the front door for a relaxing afternoon of sipping Dr. Pepper poolside and catching some rays while listening to Adele. However, I was greeted with a loud clap of thunder the second my feet hit sidewalk. Instead of becoming less ghost-like I will have to settle for staying pasty and writing. I really like a short description I wrote aobut my Gram and Grandma's home at Kentucky Lake and I am going to attempt to vividly depict another story from my childhood. So bear with me ; D
Jenny:
I wanted desperately to name my second little sister Barbie, after all she was a great doll to play with and it was the perfect choice. Sadly my parents went with Hannah. I didn't hold a grudge and I gave them a second chance when my mom was pregnant with my third little sister. I went with a more conservative option, Jennifer, and was shot down yet again. Needless to say, I was beginning to question whether my guardians were capable of naming children after turning down two such obvious winners and whether I would ever get the joy of giving someone a name. Much to my chagrin, Emma (the one I wanted to be Jennifer), was the last child my parents decided to have. Now my dreams of naming someone/something were ruined after such a short run.
Just when I began to lose hope and focus my creative energy in other areas, we decided to buy a dog! It was a brown, short-haired dachshund and I was given the privilege of picking out her name. I could barely contain my excitement and instantly went to the name Jennifer, because that is a great name for a dog. My parents agreed that her Christian name would be Jennifer (finally they were seeing the light) and offered the suggestion that we call her Jenny for short. All in one fell swoop I had a new playmate, I was able to fulfill my dream of naming something, and I developed a love of nicknames. It was an epic day and the start of one of the best relationships I have ever had.
Jenny was resilient if you had to choose one word to most aptly define her. How she survived with four small girls who picked her up by her tail or neck frequently, flipped her upside down for kicks, laid on top of her as a pillow or played roughly with her I will never know. She once fell down an entire flight of stairs and was only out of commission for a mere moment. She was a trooper in the truest sense of the word.
Her tormented upbringing may be part of the reason why she trusted very few people and hated most. Why she loved and protected us four hooligans with her ferocious barking and vicious bite, I do not understand. From the beginning she watched over us and made sure no one got too close. In her nine year reign as plucker of our heartstrings she managed to bite a couple friends and attack damn near every one of them. You learned real quickly who liked dogs and who was terrified by the panic in their eyes when Jenny unleashed her yap.
Woe to those who never made it into Jenny's inner circle. Once on the inside it was magical. She could sense your mood and read what action was required from her to make you feel better. I am a very private person and anytime I was sad I would hide away in the living room so that my family wouldn't be able to find me (no one ever went in that room), but Jenny always knew. She would search me out and come snuggle with me until I had vented away all the pain and hurt. I was big spoon and she was little spoon.
All my secrets were locked away tight from everyone except Jenny. She was the only living being that knew everything about me and she loved me all the same. There is something unbelievably comforting about the presence of a pet. I know she couldn't comprehend the insecurities I shared or voice her anger at the people who had wronged me, but she could and did love and my life was better for having her be a part.
The last time I saw her she was three days dead and rigamortis had set in and it was one of the saddest moments in my life. I drove to Walmart and sobbed for 30 minutes straight. I felt like part of me was gone forever and I missed my best friend terribly. We painted a paw print on a stone step to place over her gravesite and planted a rose beside her resting place. Every time I visit my parent's house it is nice to see her rose still growing strong and think to all the fond moments we shared.
No particular big memory comes to mind, just all the little moments that added up to equal an inseparable bond. The threads that strung our lives together. For every night that we snuggled and I felt safe a thread developed. Each time that she sought me out and consoled me during a sad day created more threads. Walks at the park, romps in the yard, afternoons being lazy on the couch, rides in the car with the music up and the windows down, adventures in nearby neighborhoods and hunts for cheerios; all threads.
Chuck Norris eloquently depicts the sentiment I wish to express when he states, "More and more I was coming to realize that the rewarding part in life was the journey, not the destination." While she won't arrive with me at my destination, Jenny shared a large portion of my journey and I will always cherish her presence in my life. I hope that everyone gets the opportunity to experience having a travel buddy as wonderful as Jenny.
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