♦Welcome to another edition of the Open Book Blog Hop!♦
If you could change one thing in your life and not have it affect
you negatively later, what would you pick?
Welcome back to another edition of the Open Book Blog Hop! If you’re new to the series, the authors included are grateful for your reads and appreciate, even more so, when you share our writings with your friends. If you’re new to the series, welcome aboard. The authors engage and impress weekly. Be prepared to become a regular reader.
When we kicked around ideas for the hop several weeks ago, this question cropped up and I thought I might need to take a pass. We can do that, when a topic comes up that we have no comment about for various reasons. In this case, I knew I didn’t have a thing I’d change. I live my life thoughtfully and with purpose, as is possible. Thus, I don’t regret anything, or wish anything away. Really bad things have happened to me in the past, and I wouldn’t change it for fear of changing who I am because of what had happened. Since I very much like the person I’ve become (am still becoming), that can be a more frightening prospect. Imagine loosing the very essence of you…
However, when the question came up in rotation in the Facebook Group, I found that I did have an answer. Somehow it both brings me peace to have an answer and it upsets me that there is no way that this could ever happen.
You see, on April 14, 2018, I lost my best friend, Sadie Sue Shagbottom, to cancer. She was only 8 years old. Sadie had become a huge part of my life. She featured in my YouTube series Shagbottom Theater. She was the star, my diva. We had a blast. Or, at least I did. I planned every video, from taking the photograph(s) that were used and doing the art to make them align with the visions I created (click here to see her last, and find links to the rest of the series on my blog). Sadie loved to sit for photos, because she knew it made me happy, and we were together, which was what she wanted out of anything. We were never apart for long, and overnights anywhere were sleepless without her. She didn’t sleep well either (reported to me by her Poppy and Nonna when they watched her for me).
Sadie was born in Kentucky, and belonged to a family that was neglecting her. The abuse would have escalated if Animal Control hadn’t stepped in and confiscated her. They also called a rescue. The officer said she was way too good a pup to leave in that situation, or in a shelter. Thank God for him, because he is why I got her. If he hadn’t intervened, she wouldn’t have been on the rescue site, and we never would have met all those years ago.
The moment Sadie stepped off the truck, I was dumbfounded by the spirit and beauty of her. A golden retriever and lab mix, she sported a short, red coat, which had begun to curl between her shoulders in more recent years. Her nose was a soft chocolate, while her eyes were dark chocolate. She had two perfect pendant ears and the loveliest tail that never stopped wagging, not even while she was dying. On her forehead was a small, teardrop shaped white spot. It made me think she was blessed in some way (as I lean toward Buddhist beliefs). That mark meant something. I always tried to capture a picture where it would show, but it always blended into the red, probably un-negotiable by the lens. She also bore a white cross on her chest. The keepsakes they gave me from the crematorium included the curly hair on her back and the cross on her chest (they shaved her fur to give to me, and looking at it cut me deep because it was in such perfect order it was like a window to her, but I still couldn’t wrap my arms around her).
I had eight very full, loving years with my MacBoo, as I called her (because Goldens are a Scottish breed). But, as with any loved one, it’s never enough. If I could fix anything in my past, it would be that she would live a healthy and full life with me and my daughter. If I could change things even further, I’d make it so dogs lived a hell of a lot longer than 10-15 years. I never understood the shortness of their lives. Perhaps it is true, that they are so pure they do not need to be here long before they’re called home. If that is the case, then I wouldn’t change a thing, because I would not want to harm her dharma or her.
Here in reality, I will have to wait a very long time to be with her again, and my heart aches terrible at the thought that there is no here after. I hope with time, the wound will not be so tender, maybe just another scar of which I am exceedingly proud. But, if I could, yeah, that would be what I would change—in a heart beat.
Let’s hop over to see what the other authors would change in their lives.
Changing Your Life