Fy nghalon i

So for a week now I have been trying to find the emotional energy and strength to blog about Fiona. It has been difficult to summon up the courage to do so because to write about her will bring up all those nasty feelings of grief I have been stuffing away. So be patient with me as I try to honor her spirit.

13 years ago we lost our beloved Schnauzer Scooter to old age. We swore we were not going to get another dog right away. We lasted a week! We could not stand the silence in the house. The lack of toenails clicking away on the laminate was deafening. We went to look at a Schnauzer puppy but something did not feel right. She could never be Scooter. I had been reading the "Sneaky Pie" mystery series by Rita Mae Brown and I loved the way she wrote about the spirit of the Corgi Tucker in her books. I found a Corgi breeder in Western Minnesota and off we went to visit.

There we met Fiona and her brother racing around the living room playing with a little boy. We fell in love with her ears and her little short legs and her expressive eyes. We were SO naïve. So all the way home...I did not realize that the town was almost on the South Dakota border...we discussed a name for her and she did not like the sun shining on her so she crawled up and laid across my shoulders the entire way home. Somewhere along the way we decided to name her Fiona. Yes, she was named after the Lovely Princess Fiona from Shrek. Little did we know at the time that Fiona would be the PERFECT name for her.

She was SO freaking cute!!! She had one ear up and one ear down until it popped up. She was adorable and early on we realized she had a lot of energy for such a little dog. She was a turbo in a very compact frame. She was obsessed with tennis balls and Frisbees and we spent much of her puppy months trying to wear her out. It was exhausting...for us! At some point I realized she needed more socialization and an outlet for her energy and I discovered a doggie day care in our town.

That was the BEST phone call I ever made. Not only did I find the perfect place for Fiona to be Fiona but I made a friend for life in Candace. I am not sure Candace knows just how much she taught me about dogs and what an impact she has had on my life. She also helped me and Fiona to reach some sort of détente. Remember when I said that Fiona was the PERFECT name for her...I was not joking. When she got close to her terrible twos we had quite the crisis. We were both determined to be the boss and neither were willing to budge on the subject. We had a lot of spectacular rows before Candace taught me a calmer and more civilized way to deal with Fiona's Elvis lip and defiant nature. We reached a reluctant truce and although we did have to have periodic "Come to Jesus" meetings over the years we both managed to live through it.

I also met one of my best friends at day care. At first we did not know one another's name. I was Fiona's human and she was Chole and Ricochet's mom. We did manage to get to know one another and through day care and work we got to know one another and Fiona LOVED Aunt Julie. Aunt Julie...being more experienced with herding dogs...got her. Aunt Julie understood and Fiona was devoted to her. Fiona spent so many joyous hours playing with her Border Collies. Refusing to admit when she was exhausted. Chasing that Frisbee and trying to take poor Ricochet's legs out from under her. Fiona was in heaven!! Those were some of best times of my life. Sitting in Julie's back yard watching the dogs be dogs and talking about everything under the sun. I treasure those memories.

Now she is gone. It doesn't seem right that her little spirit and energy are gone from this world. Yes...she could be an absolute turd but she was my turd. We butted heads constantly but I loved her so much. I would have given anything to be able to take away all her pain. For the last year of her life she could not walk anymore. She would push herself along with the one hip and drag the other. It was incredibly hard to watch. She graciously tolerated...well sometimes not so graciously...me carrying her around and walking her in her stroller. But ultimately it was lack of dignity combined with the increasing lack of mobility that forced me to let her go. She was ready even though I was not. The hardest thing I have ever had to do...other than holding my mother's hand as she left this world...is to know when to let my fur babies go. To put aside my feelings and to do what is right for them. To honor their life and their dignity by helping them to move on.

So...Fiona is home with me again. Her presence is less vocal but it is here none the less. When I contemplated what I wanted on her plaque I depeneded on the internet for assistance so I want to apologize to Welsh speakers everywhere if I got it wrong. According to the Welsh/English dictionary, fy nghalon i means my heart. Fiona you were my heart. You brought so much joy and happiness to my life. You made me nuts sometimes as I am sure I did you but you were my companion and my friend. When I was in the depths of my most horrible grief you would come and look at me and lick my legs and hands and let me know that it was going to be okay. I miss your punkin' butt, your stubby little legs, your expressive eyes and your stubborn, intelligent and sensitive soul. I love you Fiona Louise and for the rest of my days I will feel your absence in my heart and in my home.