my babies.

(this post is reflective & a little tear-jerky, so be forewarned.)

it's been rough around here, lately.
it's a stretch to make the rent, i'm on hold for hours a week with the disability office, & i have $26 in my checking account. depressive bouts, insomnia & numbness in my limbs are a daily occurrence.
but i realized, no matter how shitty my luck can be, i've always had one thing that gets me through. thinking to myself sometimes,'what makes me most happy, what could lift this weight from me right now?' the answer has always been: animals.
MY animals.

i look back at how i got to here....2006, Berkeley, 3 hip surgeries & a self-made careeer. & even though it was 8 years...it seems like i can't recall any memorable moments that i went through on my way here without thinking of Gambit having been there.

he was my first dog that was MINE, not the family dog my mom took care of, not a dog that was left in the yard for my dad to train. he was my shadow, his eyes always trained on me & his ears tuned to wherever i was. any decisions i made about my life always included him.

it took 5 years of begging & some failed rescue dog attempts before my dad finally allowed me a puppy, & we discussed the size & breed seriously. we decided on the Australian shepherd, which i had never considered before. i was suddenly obsessed.

i saved 3 paychecks from my measly veterinary assistant job, & scoured the newspaper, then internet for an Australian shepherd. specifically, a red merle.
i found a wonderful woman who was in the area with an entire litter, & i had my pick. she had 2 red merles, but when i picked him up & saw those mismatched, marbley eyes, my fate was sealed. i named him Gambit, after the X-Men character i collected.

i was 17 & Gambit was 9 weeks, & it was a battle of wills until he was 2 years old. after that, we were inseparable. it was as if everything i was trying to teach him prior to that suddenly made sense to him. i could talk to him like a person, & he understood. i could ask a question, & he could answer with woofs & whines & the most expressive face i've ever seen on a dog.



he made it through the roughest of years with me, when i moved out of my parent's house & switched jobs. Gam was my closest friend & the one i cried on, the one who was always there. when i moved again & lived in places that seemed so unfriendly & lonesome, Gambit made those places seem like home.

when i was 22, a friend called about a siamese kitty who needed a home. i hadn't had a cat since i was young, & he stayed at my mom's house, all but shunning me when i visited. my dad had always insisted cats went outside! so i was excited at having a housecat.




she came to us in a whirlwind of blue eyes & claws. she hissed at Gambit, attacked hands that went to pet her & executed kamikaze dive bombs on my face in the middle of the night.
i thought, 'oh great, i got a terror of a cat!' i named her Geisha Hatsuemomo for the villainous geisha in the book Memoirs of a Geisha.

the day i brought her home from being spayed, i thought i should keep her separate from Gambit & close her in a bedroom. when i did, she cried & mewed until he was allowed in.
and then we were 3. :)




this was my family unit outside of my Mom & Dad's house for the past 5 years.
Geisha matured into a cuddly, funny cat who hid under the covers for a majority of the day. Gambit grew steadily chubby after my accident when i broke my hip, as his walks were cut shorter & shorter. regardless, he waited patiently through my 2 hour commutes every night, never complaining & his sense of humor never failing.





when we moved Berkeley, i hoped our small, 2 room apartment was temporary. my boyfriend at the time & i contemplated getting a house to rent; i eagerly promised Gambit a backyard of his own. no more leashed walks to go potty in the rain, & he could get to eat all the messy bones he wanted in our own grass!

but then, Gambit suddenly developed a massive infection & tracheal abscess the next month after a simple dental procedure. he was unable to breath comfortabley, eat or drink, or even settle down to sleep as a hematoma grew in his throat. i rushed him from one vet clinic to another, following a chain of specialists i knew from work, coming to the surgery & internists last. they hurried him off for diagnostics, but came back with news i was dreading, but expecting. i waited for the internist to tell me she had found a mass in the back of his throat. a tracheostomy was the only way he would be able to breathe through any possible work up or surgery, & it was no guarantee.

the decision was mind-numbing, but it was something ingrained in my mind. i had watched so many animals suffer at their owner's behest, although the pet would never lead the same comfortable, happy life they once enjoyed. i made up my mind when Gambit was young that i would never put him through such pain to ease my own suffering at the loss of him.

so, trembling & inconsolable, i agreed to euthanize him. my mother, unable to keep herself together, left me alone with Gambit. he laid on an exam table, under anesthesia to relieve his stressful breathing. it seemed appropriate that he come to an end in a place we had spent so many hours when he came to work with me. when they gave the injection & removed the tube; my best friend Lisa flew into the room immediately after. we hugged Gam's hulking, lifeless body, crying & kissing his motionless muzzle & petting his once expressive ears.

the days & weeks that followed were empty & difficult. i took a day off from work, but went back the next day, unable to stay in the apartment without him there. his toys still scattered about, a dent still in his bed from where he had lain the night before. Geisha changed from hiding under the covers to sleeping in it from then on.i felt like she knew he was gone. she has became suddenly clingy, constantly jumping into my lap & purring without prompting.

now Gam's ashes are sealed in cedar on a shelf in my bedroom & i keep his ID tags on my keychain. my family & friends knew it was like the loss of any other friend, & were supportive & helpful when i mentioned 'someday' getting another dog. i cried when i was alone in the dark, in bed. his face, which i knew almost as well as my own, haunted my dreams.




just before i would wake up, Gambit would be there in my dream, his clear, mismatched eyes gazing up at me. normally a talkative boy, he was eerily silent. i held him in my arms, stroked his head & begged him not to leave me. i could feel consciousness pulling me back, & i would sob my goodbyes until i was awake. sometimes, i woke up with tears on my pillow.

2 months passed, & i realized i could stand it no more. i needed a dog.
the 8 years Gambit spent in my life were the years that i did the most growing & becoming my own person. i didn't remember myself before him.
a dog in my life, everyday, was part of who i have become.

i tried Australian Shepherd rescues, & was upset when they turned me down for lack of a backyard. i scoured other rescue sites online, put in inquiries all over the state about Aussie mixes. i went to meet a few, & soon found the Milo Foundation very close by. i made an appointment to met a male Aussie mix who was smaller in size compared to what Gambit had been. i thought he might fare better in the apartment. our leashed walk around the neighborhood showed me little of the dog's personality, other than his aggression to cats. disappointed, i put him back in his crate & turned to leave.

i was about to leave when my friend who accompanied me said, "What about the spreckly -faced dog over there?" peering into the crate, my eyes met the most beautiful brown eyes i'd ever seen on a dog. they were accompanied by a dog-smile of shining white teeth & a fancy, curling white tail. the volunteer let me walk her, & when we came back offered, "Do you want to foster her for a week & see how it goes?"

at home, while the freshly washed puppy swam in the blankets on my bed & said 'good night!' with a wag of her tail, it only took that one night for me to decide.




and so, was Pixel.




sweet, sensitive, & endlessly eager to please, Pixel was a burst of sunshine in my grey-skied life. although there was a little potty training to deal with, she picked up everything i taught her flawlessly. she's become in-tune with my routine just like Gambit did, a trait i loved so much. she also plays gentley with Geisha, who took some time to warm up to the boisterous new puppy. now they snuggle & groom one another like old friends. & best of all, true to any dog someone cares to love, Pixel is endlessly loyal & ceaselessly affectionate.




my dreams of Gambit persisted for a few weeks, even with Pixel in my life. one morning,i found myself in the same dream, but was shaken by the different outcome. Gambit's once familiar face, gazing up at me as usual, was speckled with black spots.
he got up & left my lap despite my pleads for him to stay.
panicked, i mentioned it to my closest friend & my brother's fiancee later that day. they both had the same reply: maybe this was Gambit's way of telling me to let him go, Pixel is here for me now.

i haven't had a saddening dream of him since.

Pixel has been an important part of my rehab since my MS attacks. getting her out & thoroughly exercised gets me out in the sunshine, makes my muscles work & just as Gam had been, is my reason to get out of bed some days. we've gone to beaches & the redwoods, taken car trips to Oregon with our friends,& haven't had a day we didn't enjoy somehow.



when i tell people the story of how i came to have Pixel, it always starts with Gambit. i then talk about Pixel's important position in my life, as my grief counselor. most people chuckle, but it couldn't be more true. not only in helping me work through my loss, but through bad days, hospital stays, & being the one to lick my face when i fall down & make me smile.

i wish everyone had someone so positive, loyal & loving behind them. even if that someone has 4 legs.