IT'S TIRING TURNING SEVEN!

HAPPY SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, HANNAH!

It doesn't seem like it's been that long... but in reality, Hannah has been part of our lives for almost as long as Ginger was. I grew up with a dog (Taffy) and have always found comfort in having one around... so when Ginger died, I was completely desolate. After all, with Harry gone so much she was my true companion -- was there when I went to slept and when I woke. I remember being so scared on that last Thursday, and crying when I had to take her to the vet's office to be checked to try to figure out why she had snapped at the boys and wouldn't come back into the house... why she was just lying in the yard, in her favorite corner by the side gate... because I just knew it wasn't good. I remember the frantic calls to Harry, the call from the vet... and having to sit with Harry that night to make "the decision". It killed me knowing she was just up the street, but since I was home alone with the boys I couldn't go be with her. I remember sitting on the couch in Centurion's family room when the call came... as I'd been sitting there with the phone knowing that I had to call to let them know we'd decided it was best to put her to sleep. Instead, she had died. It still hurts my heart to know that my first baby died alone, in a cage, without me with her, but I've always felt that she did it to spare me the pain of knowing that I had her killed... so that I didn't have to live with that guilt.

I had to have another dog. And when Harry held Hannah, in her little fluff ball golden retreiver puppy form, and she looked up at him with those old soul brown eyes, he asked "the question" -- "When can we take her home?"

He always said that if we were to get a dog, it would need to be a puppy so we could train it to "behave", instead of inheriting problems created by other owners.

As you can see from the pictures, that didn't quite work out...

But again, she is my companion. When she is at the groomer I always have to remind myself that she isn't in the house; it's like the house realizes her life force isn't within the walls and the space reverberates with loneliness. I'd like to say that she is "my" dog, but in reality, she would pick Harry over me in a nanosecond. I always find this to be the greatest offense (especially since he doesn't feel the same about her) but I attribute it to her psychic connection to him; knowing that HE is the one who picked her out and made the decision to bring her home.

So I feed her... love her... play with her.... pet her in the middle of the night... and when Harry is home, she snuggles up against him at bedtime. Oh well - I get all the other hours of the week :) !!

Happy 7th Birthday, Gold Bullion!!