She's a Good Girl

One day, about twelve years ago, I left my house to go to my part-time library job.  When I left, I had one dog and when I returned, I had two dogs.  To be fair, I did receive a phone call about maybe a puppy with excited kids clamoring in the background and I believe I was neither excited that it should happen or adamant that it not happen. Ambivalent, I guess you would say.  Until I got home and saw this face.

OMG. And those ears!!

And just like that, I was in love.  I loved her stinky-sweet puppy breath and her fat little belly, and the way she would bound through the grass outside. I loved how she snuggled in tight and the way she shouldered disappointment when the older dog wouldn't let her snuggle in tight; she would just go look for a person instead. She brought laughter and merriment and alternated crazy puppy energy for sweet puppy naps.

Austin Pets Alive said that she was found in a farmer's field all alone and we sighed about her rough start.  Poor Bailey!  We wondered if that was why she was so afraid of rainstorms and thunder.  It did not explain why she hated balls being tossed at her.  She did not love a game of catch, that is for sure.  We tried.  She would watch our other dog, Grommit, catch and return and looked like she wanted to join in on the great dog fun.  You would throw it to her, she would watch it fall close to her, and then run.  Grommit would look at her with complete disapproval.  Maybe her abandonment in a field also made her the nervous girl she was.  In addition to rainstorms, she didn't like other dogs, a lot of people, being pet with two hands, car rides, anything thrown in the air, or being alone for too long.  

Austin Pets Alive also said Bailey was a lab mix.  I think every stray they have in there is labeled lab mix.  Bailey was definitely a German Shepherd and something.  Probably some kind of herding dog.  She had a nose that would poke you from here to tomorrow, or her favorite, from bed to her food bowl.  Poke, poke, poke.  100% of her strength was concentrated in her nose.  She would use it to poke open doors, to poke on doors, to poke you where she wanted you.  Poke, poke, poke.  She eventually learned not to poke her nose and head into bushes on a walk when she poked her nose in and got a cat scratch to the eye.  For a time, we even thought she must be part cat because her favorite place to lay on a couch was along the top of it.

Just lounging.

Bailey took over our home with her sweet face, love of being pet, and ability to bring joy.  She became a reading buddy to Will and would lie next to him patiently as he read to her from a book.  She became a confidant and consoler to all.  Kids could confess their heartaches to her and she would lick away their tears.  She was my constant companion and ready for a walk at any time for as long as I wanted.  She loved all food, especially popcorn, and loved to be in the way in the kitchen.  All of my recipes included the extra step of "Step over Bailey".

The thing she hated more than thunderstorms though? Squirrels.  Oh, she waged a war on squirrels when we had a backyard.  Bark, run, bark, run, bark, climb trees, bark, run.  No exaggeration!  This dog climbed trees on her hunt to eradicate her home of squirrels.  It was always a shock to look out a window and see her casually coming down a tree.  Twice, this dog went into the backyard whole, and twice she came back with terrible cuts that needed stitches.  Both times, we had no idea what happened.  The second time I took her, I am sure the vet was going to call the CPS version of animal care on me.

Only tree-climbing dog I have ever known.

Bailey moved and moved and moved one more time with me.  Always my constant companion.  She slept at my feet every night and would move until her toes touched mine.  She was comfort and familiarity in every new place.  She would melt into the kids when they came back to visit.  Just sinking into them and sighing and I knew exactly how she felt.  Bailey accepted it when we got two kittens.  I don't think she was ever excited about them but she was very tolerant.  The boy cat loved her so much and followed her everywhere from day one to the  point where we now believe he thinks he is a dog.  He answers to his name and comes running when the door opens.  I thank Bailey for that.  

It had become apparent this last year that Bailey was slowing down.  She was losing weight.  She didn't want to go for walks as much and definitely not as far.  I commented it was like living with an old woman who was very furry and surprisingly agile at times.  And she was an old woman.  She was 12.  She had raised kids and watched them go off to start their lives.  She had moved and moved and moved.  She still hated squirrels but now it was harder to get up and bark at them.  

It is always hard to know when it is time to help a dog move on.  My own selfishness of wanting Bailey with me probably delayed my decision a bit.  She is eating and pooping and all is well, I told myself.  Until I left for a week and came back and saw her.  Really saw her.  Frail and small and hurting.  This dog who had brought us endless joy was now suffering and that wasn't fair at all.  And so it was decided, and it was done, and I am just so sad.

I know it will take awhile to get used to a house without Bailey. I hold my breath a minute as I turn the key in the lock to remind myself that she is not running to greet me. I dropped food on the kitchen floor and as I bent down to pick it up, I cried.  I haven't had to pick food up off the floor; Bailey was always there to eat it up.  I haven't vacuumed yet because her tumbleweeds of fur will be gone and no more will be dropping to replace them.  The boy cat is taking it hard too. He meows looking for her non-stop.

Dogs give us so much in this life.  They give us that constant companion, that built-in best friend, that touchstone of belonging.  They make us interact with other dog people or people they sniff inappropriately as we walk.  They teach us patience, they help us keep a schedule, and they teach our kids responsibility.  There is no dog without a lot of poop to pick up.  They bring out what is best in us because they see it.  They love us when we look bad, feel bad, and even smell bad.  They fill a house with their muddy feet and fur and toys and treats.  They fill our hearts with joy and laughter and love.  They show us what unconditional love looks like.

Everyone talks about dogs and cats crossing the rainbow bridge after death and leading an idyllic life.  No pain, no sadness, just them living their best lives.  When I am not being selfish and thinking how much I miss her, I do like to think of Bailey living her best life.  I know for her it would mean finally catching a squirrel.  So maybe tonight when I go to bed and stretch out my feet and don't feel hers push back, I will think of her in a tree, catching her squirrel and feel a little less sad.

Constant companion.  Best Girl.

School's Out, Really Out

 I have always liked the cyclical nature of a school year: the excitement of the beginning, the drag of mid-year, the sweetness of the year coming to a close.  It feels very normal and I know what to expect and that each school year I will start off tanned and happy and relaxed and end each year tired and kind of fluffy and ready for a break.  Sometimes, though, there are surprises within the cycles. Things like global pandemics, or new leadership, or district initiatives.  Sometimes, I am more excited for the end of the year than the beginning or more sad at the end than I anticipated.  There is a constant amidst the change and it is comforting.  This year, though, I am throwing a real wrench into the works; I am saying goodbye to a job I love, with colleagues I think of as family, and I am leaving.

Oh, I must have a new job, you are thinking. Well.  Not yet.  But I will.  Am I crazy, you are asking?  Maybe.  I have never left a job without having another job lined up, mostly in place, and ready to go.  Would I be shocked, horrified, and completely anxiety-ridden if one of my own kids did this?  Yes. 100%.  But I am not a kid.  I am an adult and there are very good reasons for leaving, even if it is hard to leave.

I have applied to over 100 jobs on LinkedIn and various sites trying to reinvent myself as a designer, a trainer, an HR professional in some capacity.  I was hoping for a remote job with lots of money.  About rejection 85, I started to remember, and was reminded by sweet students sad about the year being up, what a good teacher I am.  That what I am doing is important, that the connections I make with kids help them and fuel me.  All of the jobs I looked at had some sort of teaching aspect to them; it is what I am drawn to. I can think about other jobs and I can wish that I made more money. I know what I do best is teach.  I feel pretty confident that I will be able to get a new teaching job and start the cycle of the school year again, just in a new place.

My person, who I have mentioned before but not often because he is a private person, has moved and I am going to move too.  And we are going to live together and teach wherever and have a life together outside of Chicago in Naperville, IL.  When we left to drive him up there last week, we laughed and laughed about how neither of us had a job or even a confirmed place to live.  We firmed up the apartment when we got there and the jobs will come too.  The important part is that we laughed on a long road trip with a howling cat.  We laugh a lot.  He is very funny, I am hilarious, and we find humor in the weirdest things.  He is so many things and my best friend and yes, of course, I am going to move to a very cold place with bad traffic and some very bland food if it means we are together.

There are worse places to move.

It is hard to leave my kids, even though they are up in Dallas and will be for the foreseeable future.  Mom-guilt is real but I remind myself that they are 22 and 20 and they are about to start their own lives too.  And that I am still their mom no matter where I live.  It is also hard to leave the school I have been at for eleven years.  Walking out of my classroom felt surreal.  I left a lot of things on the walls because it made me too sad to take them down. Sorry to the next teacher who moves in there.  I love a lot of the people I worked with, liked most of the rest, and compiled  a few into my nemeses pile.  They watched my meteoric rise from library to teacher to coach and accepted me in every new position.  They helped me get my own kids through high school there.  

So while I will not be having my usual summer adventure based on trips to CO, I will have an even bigger adventure getting ready to move. I have lived in Texas longer than I lived in Buffalo.  No, I am not ready for a Chicago winter.  It was 65 and rainy when I left there yesterday and I thought “Brr!”  I am nervous, I do wish I already had a job lined up, or that I could tuck my giant, grown kids up under one arm and make them go too, but mostly, I am excited!  I am ready to start the school-year cycle at a new school. I am ready for a real fall with crisp air and leaves that change color.  And I am really ready to be there with my person as we acclimate to living up north and laughing together while we do.