Shoba

The third anniversary of the death of my very favorite animal ever happened on the 24th of March.  It was three days after my Dad had his heart event.  Bad things tend to happen on the third day after an insult like Dad took to his heart.  And after surgeries, too.  The irony of the possibility of Dad dying on the day the Shoba died did not escape me.  I spent the day nauseated and surly with the anticipation of what might be.  I was elated that they had removed his breathing tube.  But nervous that he would code again and need the tube.  His time awake was spent hallucinating that he was dreaming, that we were in his dreams.  He also had nightmares, and spoke of horrific things.  He said some things to me that I am sure he would not have if he were not drugged.  Nothing terrible or hurtful, but very raw.  I held his hand and prayed that he and Shoba would not share an expiration day.

I was awake when midnight rolled around, and I felt a wave of relief.  Followed by a wave of sadness and grief once again for Shoba.  Oh how I miss that dog.  The comforting look in her eyes and her unwavering love for me.  And I mourned again that night for that wonderful dog.  Three years.  Still hurts.

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Shoba

I miss her

My Dog Shoba

She died a year ago tomorrow. The ground was covered with snow then, overcast and blah day. Today there is no snow, but strong winds and rain. And no Shoba.

She was the kind of dog that needed very little. Little training, little food, little anything except a little attention now and then. She loved it when I rubbed her ears one at a time, then both together. Then she'd shake her head and set it in my lap for me to do again.

She would lie at my feet with her head on her paws, then yawn and stretch out and sleep. She was mellow and loving and gentle.

She was the best dog ever, and I miss her terribly.

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My Dog Shoba

My Dog Shoba was a black German Shepherd. She was beautiful and soulful. She never judged, even when we did crazy things. She never left me for something better, though I often wondered why. She was my constant companion for over a decade. March 23rd, Easter Sunday, I found her leg swollen and sore. She couldn't stand on her own without pain. I took her to the vet first thing on the 24th. X-ray showed the beginning of bone cancer. Around 5:30 that afternoon she was gone.

She'll need many entries to capture a fraction of what she meant to me.

Then there's work. I respect and admire many whom I work with. Of them, one is a blogger here, and a writer of no small talent. She and I share a few common traits. Profession, depression (though mine is a speck compared to the plank in her eye), similar grandmothers, night shift talks. It seems she's involved in some great Internet project to blog every single day. While I have not the savvy for joining groups and navigating my way around this virtual world, I do think that writing daily might be a fun exercise to get my brain functioning. Or at the very least, clear some of the crap out of that attic so I can have some space to work in.

I made a promise to Shoba once. Long ago, on a frozen Wisconsin night, when we were huddled together for warmth under four blankets because I had forgotten (again) to have the damn fuel oil tank filled, I promised her that someday I would write about her so that people would know of her. This seems a logical place for that. Shoba would be proud, I think. Not just because she loved me without question. But because her grasp of the English language was so much greater than my own, it would do me well to practice.

So for Shoba, Karen, Steph, Dad, Jen and the other writers in my life...I'll practice by blogging every day this year. Today, the 3rd of June 2008 will be my New Year Day. And it is resolved to at least try to stick to this project!

So tired after two nights of work, that my brain cannot seem to stay focused on a topic. This is more like the ramblings of the insane. Just what you want in your paramedic when you're having an emergency. But by blogging now, I've succeeded in completing Day 1 of this blog adventure.

Don't know who would read this. Not sure whether I should care or not. If nothing else, I'll have a record of the year. So much going on, it would be nice to have something to look back upon. Here's a few things to look forward to in future posts.

More about Shoba Marie, the greatest dog to ever live.
Starting a business.
Being a father.
Being a husband.
Life with peripheral friendships.
Gardening and eating veggies.
Flight.
Dreams.
Imaginings.
Life as a medic.
Depression and insecurities.

Too tired to think. must rise and do something else, or fall into a deep sleep.

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