Rainey Days

Have you ever been saved? Meaning to the point of at times wanting to die and someone saved you. I couldn’t see through and Rainey saved my life.

Until October 26, 2010, “the straw that broke the camel’s back” were words only. After putting our beloved dog Kama to sleep, I broke. She was my life, Avi’s life, the glue holding our family together.

 

Since the day we brought Avi home from Guatemala, Kama and Aviana were inseparable, but after three months of Aviana in the hospital after her accident and in ways no human or therapy could, Kama became Aviana’s support, understanding, motivation and best hope of recovery.

 

After saying goodbye to Kama, my “hold it together” was replaced by going through the motions, crumpled and crushed.

With Kama gone and straight to the brain injury institute in Pennsylvania, Avi and I spent the next ten days circling the drain. For this hurt girl who couldn’t move, Kama’s daily body mold and love was her salvation.

With tears strewn across the Institute grounds coupled with a grieving Gothic Vampira, Dave uttered the words, “what about that puppy.” Gutted, I say “I can’t. There’s no way. Now, the puppy would be a replacement.”

Twenty days prior, we started the search for a second dog for Kama and companion for Aviana. Lymphoma had other plans, so banished was the thought of this other dog. Once home late and one step into dead silence (the worst feeling, isn’t it!) though, I woke, rolled over and through tears said, “we have to have that dog.” A case of kennel cough resulted in a ten day quarantine, lifted the next and first day able to see this little black dog. Coincidence? I think not.

She hailed from the streets of Red Bluff, caught and caged by the Shasta County Animal Shelter. Down the long hall this puppy walked slow and calm. With Dave close beside, I kneeled with Aviana on my lap and this six month old puppy sat, gently licking Aviana’s toes. I looked to the woman above and said, “we’ll take her.” I don’t think she ever had someone decide that quick because I had to tell her three times until she believed me.

Have you ever been saved?

I didn’t think it was possible to love another dog the way I love Kama, but Rainey showed me different. She mirrored Kama enough to let us know from whom she was sent with middle of the night romps with our bath mat or rummaging fresh out the dryer laundry by shredding the sheets but most important by –

warming up to Avi,

 

which didn’t take too long.

caring for,

entertaining,

napping,

feeding,

kissing,

sharing,

and

lots

and lots

of therapy.

Which

required

kickback relax.

mold and snuggle.

Rainey knew when Aviana was about to leave us and remained by her side.

Day,

and night.

Then grieved

hard.

Year

after year.

She changed,

We changed.

Pillows, couches, chairs and beds were no longer shared with her girl.

We held each other,

and our memories extra tight.

Then ventured,

making new.

While similar in some respects to Kama, Rainey proved her own dog. She was calm, independent and endearing. The Michael Phelps of the lake and Usain Bolt of the park. She was a chaser of squirrels with no intent to catch. Rainey was gentle, but mess with her friend once or ball after 3-1/2 warnings and her days on the streets came full force. Rainey was a “sick dog” for one girl only, Aviana. When I had a headache, she could be found out watching basketball with Dave. I joked that Rainey thought, “you call that sick? Avi was sick.”

She had a great love of a good pillow but in a split, hiked every last from the couch. Butter was her best friend, so being a baker, Rainey’d come running with the opening of every stick, which gained her the name “Butter Whore.” Did she hang with felines while on the streets? Man, was this girl finicky! We’d drop food and watch her pick and choose. When handed a bite, she’d either turn her nose or gently decline as the piece was decidadly too big. Rainey was our life and deserved her chosen bite size, so we conceded to her every whim. My mom on the other hand wouldn’t have it, calling her “spoiled” yet tailor made Rainey over medium eggs first thing every morning (before making our breakfast) and snuck her food she wasn’t supposed to have!

There will never be enough pictures or words to describe the feeling or outpouring of love for this girl. And that’s okay, because she’s on every trail we walk, beside with every bread crust I want to share, in each open of the peanut butter jar, or glance to see her sweet self draped over a pillow. Rainey’s beady’s are looking back every morning Dave turns to give kisses before leaving for work and she’s definitely bounding through today’s fresh blanket of snow. When in every cell, she’s forever and always.

Our girl Rainey, who on this very day, ten years ago, saved our lives. The one who made it possible to continue caring for Aviana and our family. The girl who watched over our girl. Rainey, when I was at my lowest and didn’t think I could go on or love again, you will forever be the one who showed me the way.

Rainey Days Hodder

4-24-10 • 10-24-20

God Gave Me You