My poor neglected blog

First, thank you so much for your comments on my pillow finish. I appreciate all of them. I am so glad it's finished! One more thing off the to-do list.

I have not been around much in the last few days. Our weekend was very busy: my family reunion in Western Pennsylvania was on Sunday, and my MIL's birthday was Monday. We had all that good Pennsylvania Dutch food on Sunday, including gobs, which, us old timers at the reunion know you get when you get your first plate of food. Cause they won't last til you are ready for dessert. Gobs are also called whoopie pies, but when you get them made by a bakery, they are filled with icing, while the homemade ones in my family have a flavored whipped cream in the middle. There is nothing you can buy in a bakery that matches a fresh gob, made by a little old lady, wrapped in a square of waxed paper, carried to a reunion in a shoebox. That is gastronomic heaven. And, as if it was not enough to glut ourselves on gobs, fried chicken, and strawberry pretzel salad, we had crabs on Monday at my in-laws. A lot of work for a little reward, but you treasure the things that are not so easily gained. We tried to teach the kids how to pick them, but the 5 year old is more interested in mashing them. The 8 year old has be gone behind because she wastes more than she eats. The three year old LOVED crabs, though. He is a true child of the Eastern Shore.

It hasn't been all fun though. We made the difficult decision to help our sweet Shocka cross the Rainbow Bridge on Tuesday. He has not been "right" for the last month. First, we thought he pulled something out in the yard and it just needed to heal. He was still eating well, but he started to lose weight. Not much, just not himself. When HTB went away on his camping trip, he refused to eat dry food. I figured he missed his Daddy, so was giving him treats, because he wanted those. Then, he didn't want the treats, but he ate canned food. This past weekend, he was not "right". Eating very little, didn't want to come out of his cage, he'd actually started keeping away from Caesar. I have been around enough old dogs to know when they're disconnecting. Maybe it's something they do to get the pack used to them not being around. He was ancient for a pit bull, so I knew that whatever he had was terminal. We had to make the choice of what to do with him, so we did the kindest thing we could. So we took him in on Tuesday evening. The vet looked at him and agreed there wasn't anything that could be done. HTB tried hard, but he couldn't stay with him. Shocka wanted to follow him out of the room, but he listened when his daddy told him to go lay down with me. I stayed, but I understand; it's a horrible choice to have to make. As it was, he can't understand how he can hunt, he's hit animals with his vehicle on accident, but he can't see his beloved pet die; he sat out in the car and cried. I don't know what hurt worse, seeing a pet with pain I can't fix, or seeing a man with pain I can't fix, but I tried to be there for both of them. I told him all about the Rainbow Bridge, and that he didn't have to worry no more; he always worried about us, even at the cottage, when we were swimming, he whined til he figured out how to jump off the dock in the water to come check on us. And I thanked him for being my dog. And he left. I picture him now, running through a field of late summer grass (I always imagine it's late summer across the Rainbow Bridge, that quality of light and the breeziness that a late summer day has), his ears held high, that quizzical look he had. He probably turned around to look for us, but he's off playing, chasing a fat slow groundhog.

Our Beazer is handling it as well as can be expected. I put him outside yesterday and he sat on the hill and howled for his friend. He may have been calling him, may have been wailing out his loneliness and grief, or he may have been telling him goodbye. It was the most touching thing I've ever been privileged to listen to, my big brave dog so sad. He's a little better today, but he doesn't really want to be outside. He's happy here at my feet, snoring and expressing himself in other ways. He'll get better. It is just a matter of letting it sink in that his brother is gone.

I will start posting photos, it's just not been the best week for stitching