R.I.P. sweet Pugsly. April 3, 2017

It’s raining right now. Fitting for how I’m feeling.
The heavens cry along with me with the loss of my wonderful companion, Pugsly.

I have few words now. I didn’t know it was possible to love a wee creature so much.
Four years ago, she walked lost down my street and found me.


good times, bad times

One of the weird things I noticed the other day about missing my dad is that my life is pretty good.

Lemme ‘splain.

I have this dog. She’s a pug. Never thought I’d ever like a little dog, but this snorting, snarfling, pudgy, little creature had wiggles and sneezed her way into my heart. I want to send my dad her funny pictures and laugh with him at her odd amusing ways. When I took pictures of her at my friends St. Patrick’s day party, I thought about how hard he would have laughed at her picture with the Buddha statue. We would have joked about the Zen of Pugs.

10994333_1052236391458611_2274175064423649730_nAfter a number of years of working towards a career goal, I have a job that I love. When I wake up in the morning, I actually look forward to going to work. I consider myself lucky. Earlier today, I was making up stories of what I’d tell my younger self. I wanted to tell her to listen to your dad. He had some things that made a lot of sense – now listen to them! He would be so proud of me, and so terribly happy to know that I am so enjoying my life. 11081419_10205394018044244_3255132250463810909_nWhen I got my first cell phone, my dad and I talked every day. It was New Technology and it enabled us to be connected like we never could before. It was so cool! When the iPhone first came out, all I could think about was how excited he would have been playing with one. Where I work, we have dictation computers for the doctors. When I first encountered these a few years ago, I remembered my dad struggling with early voice-to-text software. He knew it had promise, but it wasn’t at a usable point then.

It’s an odd feeling missing someone and being terribly sad that they are gone, while at the same time feeling satisfied and happy with a wonderful life that you want to tell them all about.



I lost my grandma’s necklace today. It was silver and lovely. She let me borrow it for an evening out last time I visited her. It came home with me in my bag and when I asked her about sending it back, she told me to keep it. It’s one of my few pieces of jewelry, and when I wear it, it reminds me of my grandma. She is in her mid-90’s and amazing. Nothing fazes her. When I have a bad day, I try to channel her and let whatever is bothering me roll off my shoulders.

Earlier today I had a feeling that I would lose that necklace today. I ran my fingers across its bumpy texture and considered taking it off. The feeling was fleeting and I turned my attention back to my work at hand.

I know the moment it left my neck, not consciously, but there was a slight difference. It happened when I left work, as I was walking across the parking lot I lifted my work i.d. lanyard off over my head. I didn’t know it at the time, but as I drove away down the highway, I realized the loss.

As I reached up to my now bare neck, I flashed to that earlier feeling. Even though I was sad at the loss, I chuckled at my lack of listening to myself. I knew!

This feeling has happened to me before. Enough times that it’s familiar, but not often enough for me to have practice holding on to it. I don’t understand “precognition,” but it happens to enough people that it has a word, a dictionary definition even.

Perhaps one of these days, I’ll have enough clarity to hold on to that moment and act on it. I’ve been able to do that in the past, but the feelings happen more often that clarity.

I still hold hope that my grandma’s necklace turns up. It is a small, symbolic connection to a wonderful woman who won’t be around too very much longer, and I will hold on to her however I can.