bookmark_borderJoella, Barking Silenced

I have had a constant companion for twelve years. Joella went with me everywhere. On a plane to Toronto. In a truck to New Jersey. Atlanta. Montgomery. Charlotte. Waffle House. Olive Garden. Cracker Barrel. Home Depot. BestBuy. Lowes. Church. She was always there.

And now she’s not.

Jo was a pain in the ass to travel with. Oh, she was great to ride in the vehicle. Quiet. Didn’t get car sick. But then she wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t drink. Wouldn’t do her business. The entire trip was spent arguing with her rather than doing what I was there to do. After a few years of this, I no longer took her with me if it was an overnight trip. She wasn’t happy either way. Neither was I.

In restaurants and other businesses, Jo was great. The best compliment we got (numerous times) was “Oh, I didn’t know a dog was there!”. That’s saying a lot when the waitress was referring to an 85 pound Rottweiler.

And now she’s not there.

I knew that when she died, it was going to be tough. I figured it would be a planned thing, where she and I and Lorna reached the decision amicably and Joella was allowed to be relieved of her pain or whatever it was that was making her life unlivable. But that’s not how it went. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t what we wanted. What happened that day is another story for later. A dear friend of mine said that Joella died while I was gone (from the animal hospital) because she knew how hard it would be for me. I was there for all of them, to help them cross that veil. But I wasn’t there for her. I’ll never forgive myself for that. And I won’t forgive her for not letting me.

Joella died Sunday afternoon. She took with her a huge chunk of my heart and soul. I keep thinking she’ll come in from outside and nudge my arm. I’ve heard her bark, heard her nails on the hallway floor. Heard her snore. But she’s not there. And she won’t be ever again.

I’m at the point now where I can speak about her without losing it. I still cry at random moments. And I’ll deck anyone who says “She was just a dog.” Sorry, but you never met her if you actually think that’s true. Joella was a shithead, clown, helper, pain in the ass, friend, comrade, monkey butt. But she was never “just” a dog.

I’m also at the point where I am finding humor in this. Like, now we don’t have to dutifully read the ingredients of dog treats (she was allergic to chicken) nor only buy the small treats (she would only eat small pieces). We can take the Boys for car rides (she sprawled across the seat, pushing big Sam against the door and Mike onto the floor). The Boys can sleep wherever they wanted, including prime futon space, without her coming in later and making them move.

I’m a writer (in case you didn’t know) so I’m slowly writing Jo’s memoir of sorts. It starts with how she came into our lives. I didn’t want her. I thought she was oddly built (6 mos old Rottweilers are all legs). But then she picked up a rock and the woman who was fostering her asked her if she’d picked up a rock again. Jo looked at her, never moved her head, and spit it out the side of her mouth. “What rock?” I could hear her say. She came home with us. Jo’s original owners thought she was the dumbest dog they’d ever met. Ha. Last I counted, Joella knew over 40 Service Dog commands in addition to the usual dog training commands (although Joella always referred to them as “requests”).

Anyway, I could rattle on forever about my girl. I could tell you stories that would make you laugh so hard you’d crack a rib. I could amaze you by telling you what she was capable of as a Service Dog. But, really, it would all pale in comparison to what she was in reality.

I will miss her more than any words can say.

bookmark_borderBeer and Art

I don’t drink beer. Can’t stand the stuff and think it all tastes the same anyway. I used to like beer. But I liked it too much. Now I don’t drink any alcohol (although I can be tempted by whiskey. got a small bottle of Knob Creek here on my desk, still unopened, and in the fridge is some Buffalo Trace). But Lorna loves the stuff. She is a beer high brow. And Asheville is a good place to practice that art.

Asheville has won the Beer City USA award for several years in a row now (take that Portland!). There are a lot of microbreweries here (9?) and recently New Belgium and Sierra Nevada have decided to build breweries here. The Sierra Nevada move hasn’t been in the news much as I think it is a recent development. But, New Belgium has become a big thing.

For one, New Belgium believes in sustainability. The best demonstration of that is what they are going to do with the site here. They bought the old livestock market (the kind with live animals, not guys in suits) and will be reusing as much of the materials from the demolition as they can. And they’re making Asheville do what they should have been doing: fix the roads and improve the area. As for their own part, in addition to a few jobs, the site will have bike trails, hiking trails, a park, etcetera that will be integrated with the Asheville’s part.

They just commissioned some artwork. But the weird thing is, the artwork was painted on buildings that will be torn down. The idea is that then later, when stuff is rebuilt, planks with portions of the work will reappear scattered about the site wherever they are used. Weird but, then again, this IS Asheville.