Max and Ash

About a month ago, I was checking facebook... when I ran across a picture of a dog in need.

As always, someone had simply shared a dog's photo on my wall.

Each day, I see hundreds... if not thousands... of images of desperate animals.

Each of those photos is urgent. Each of those photos hurts my heart.
Each of those photos affects my soul.

Even still, as I scrolled past this particular photo... I stopped...
And my heart stopped, too.

The photo itself was disturbing, infuriating, and heartbreaking.

The photo was accompanied with a wall comment... which said:

"Ashley: I think I read that you know of an animal rescue group.. who is willing to help terminally-ill dogs... before they go to Heaven. So, when I saw this photo, I thought of you. This is Max. His medical condition has taken a turn for the worse, and he doesn't have much time left on Earth. His last few months/year(s) should be special. Can you please share his photo with that rescue... the one who is willing to help terminally-ill dogs like Max?"

Before I'd even clicked on the photo, to get more information on this dog... I responded to her comment:

"I have good news. I am that rescue."

As I clicked on the picture... I realized that Max was posted by a dear friend on mine, Rebecca Helwig, of DDB in Nashville, TN.

Then... I read the photo caption (written by Rebecca). It said:

Meet Max. Max has been chained for at least 1 year.

When someone in his neighborhood reached out to us for help, a volunteer and I went to the home to check on Max. The neighbors were extremely worried about the dog... for good reason. From the photos, you can obviously see the insane abuse and neglect that this dog has been forced to endure.

When we arrived, the neighbor and my volunteer walked into the backyard, to check on Max.  Meanwhile, I remained in my car... taking photos of Max from the street, with a zoom-lens camera (Due to trespassing laws, when obtaining photographic evidence of animal cruelty, one must remain outside of property lines, in order for photos to be admissible in court.)

Shortly thereafter, a vehicle screeched into the driveway. The homeowners jumped out of the car, and ran toward the backyard, yelling: "What the f*** are you doing?"
The volunteer said: "We're just checking on your dog, man." 

That's when the homeowner pulled out a gun... pointed it at them... and yelled: " Don't move!"

Well... as soon as they saw the gun.... the neighbor and the volunteer started running.
Then... the homeowner starting shooting. 
That's when I heard the gun shots.

I looked up, as the neighbor and volunteer were running toward me. Then, I saw the gunman... running toward us as well... shooting. When the others ran inside the neighbor's house to safety... I started the car... and got the heck out of there, too.

Even still, I wasn't giving up on Max. I couldn't just leave him there... on that chain... with those awful, violent people, who were willing to let him starve to death. So, long story short... I made some calls, pulled some strings, and got Max to safety.


However, even after he'd been saved... we'd soon find out that Max was deathly ill, due to the years of neglect he'd suffered. According to the vet, Max was knocking on death's door... as he was less than 2 weeks away from literally starving to death. In addition, he was suffering from massive internal and external parasite infestation, and multiple other ailments.

But... the most critical, life-threatening condition Max faced: severely-advanced heartworm disease.

Soon after his rescue, Max underwent heartworm treatment. But even still... after treatment, his follow-up assessment would reveal massive, irreversible damage to his heart and lungs, due to the heartworms.

The vet's prognosis: Not good. This extensive damage to his organs... would soon lead to multiple organ failure... which would soon end his life.

Even though his time left is short... Max deserves the best. So now, I'm looking for someone special to love Max for the rest of his life. Maybe he doesn't have a long life left to live... but he's got a TON of love left to give. If you can help Max, please contact Rebecca DDB Nashville.

As I finished one of the most heartbreaking posts I've ever read, I was in tears.
Immediately, I sent Rebecca a text, which simply said:
"Hey girl. Call me. It's about Max."

Shortly thereafter, Rebecca called: "Hey girl! What's up? Do you have someone in mind for Max?!"

I said: "Well... actually, I do! What would you think about... me... taking Max, for the rest of his life, as my own?"

As I said those words... I anxiously awaited her response.

Without hesitation, Rebecca said: "Ashley!!! Are you kidding me?!?! Really???!!!!!"

Me: "Yes, really! His story reminds me of Rudy. His face reminds of of Noah. His heart reminds me of Annie. Yes, girl... I'm totally serious. Be honest... what do you think?"

Rebecca said: "Ashley... oh my God!!! You just don't know! This is so far beyond what I ever dreamed for Max! YOU are perfect for him! Oh my God... oh my God! Ash!!! Really?!?! You?!?! Oh my goodness!!! Yes!!!!!"

Hearing those words, I was so freaking excited!
Next, I asked her to give me more information... about Max, and his condition.

So, she gave me the run-down.
Then, she said: "Ash... I know you're bombarded with hundreds of dog requests every day. So... I gotta ask... when did you hear of Max and his story??"

I said: "Today. Someone shared him on my wall, and I just-so-happened to see him. Why? When was he rescued??"

Rebecca: "Wow! Really, Ashley?!?! Today??? I've been sharing Max for more than 2 months now... searching, hoping, praying for the perfect family for him. No one has ever offered to take him forever. I rescued Max... back in January." 

I was shocked. January?!?! How was I just-now seeing Max... at the end of April??

To be honest... there are many days...  most days... when I don't have time to check facebook. And even when I do... there are literally hundreds of photos of dogs in need... posted throughout my emails and facebook walls. Regardless, I rarely have the space/time/money to help them personally.

Yet... on one of the few days that I did check facebook...
Out of all the dogs on my pages...
Max's photo was right there...
Waiting for me...
At the very top of my profile.

And... right then... at the moment I saw Max... his photo changed my life.

In response to Rebecca, I simply said: " Fate."
She replied: "It has to be..."

Then, Rebecca said: "Thank you, Ashley" ...
I responded: "I'm the one... who should be thanking you, for saving my new baby."

Rebecca continued: "Ash... ever since January, Max has been living in a wonderful foster home, with a woman named Carola. Honestly, I can't take credit... because she brought Max back to life. However, even though she loves Max --with her whole heart-- Carola just can't keep him. She's been praying for someone like you."

So, I asked Rebecca to give Max's foster mom, Carola, my number. I wanted her to call me, just to be sure I was right for Max.

As a foster mom myself... I know how it is. You need to talk to the "new mom." You need to feel okay with it. You need to know where they're going, why they're going there, and who they're going to.

Soon, I got a call from Carola.
First of all, let me say... Carola has this amazing, adorable, German accent... of which I'm so insanely jealous.

As soon as I answered the phone... with all my Mississippi hick-ness, I said:
"Hey Carola!"
I heard: "Hi Ashley!!!"

I said: "Do you mind if I ask where you're from? Because... your accent is so f***ing cool!"
She responded: "Haha! I'm from Germany! But I like your southern accent much better than mine! It's way cooler!"
I said: "Um... this is not an "accent." It's more of an accident... so I apologize in advance for the ridiculousness of my voice throughout this conversation. Please... bear with me."

We both laughed.

Then, I told her how I'd fallen in love with Max, and I asked her what questions and information she had for me... as his current "mom."

She said: "First of all, Ashley, I already know you. I read your blog, and I have to say... I'm honored that YOU would want my boy."

I responded: "I'm the one who's honored, Carola. I'm a foster mom, too,  so I know how much you have to trust someone... to give them your baby. I also know how much you love him. I understand how much you've done for him. I realize just how much you don't want to let him go."

For the next 2+ hours, Carola and I talked about life, rescue, and Max. It was one of those conversations... where 2 people connect... on a soul-kinda level.

Then, Carola shared an incredibly touching story with me... about her previous-prejudice against the Pit Bull breeds... and how Max changed her perception... and her life:

"Ashley, please understand... I come from Germany. Growing up, in my country, all Pit Bulls were banned. So, I was raised... believing that all Pit Bulls were 'bad.' And I have to be honest... when I came to America, and began to foster rescue dogs here... I had one rule: 'No Pit Bulls.' Even still, Max had nowhere else to go. Because he'd been so badly abused, I decided to take him. But... he was a Pit Bull, so, my defenses were way-up. At first... I was afraid of him, not because he ever threatened to hurt me... but simply because of what I'd been told about his 'breed.' But then... Max was so loving --and I wanted to love him, too... but  honestly, I was afraid to love him. Then, one day,  I heard Max... choking on a toy. Out of instinct... I reached my hand into his mouth, and pulled the toy out of his throat. And, Ashley, do you know what this 'Pit Bull' did??! I had my hand in his mouth... down his throat... and yet... he licked my hand, as if to say: "Thank you, for saving me." It changed my life. I was so ignorant. So misinformed. So judgmental... toward these dogs. Yet... Max changed me. Even after all he's been through, he's honestly the sweetest dog I've ever known. I'm now an advocate for the breed... and if I ever have another dog of my own... he or she will be a Pit Bull."

In that moment, I didn't have words.
I felt so comforted. So validated. So elated.
Because everything I've ever said about these dogs... everything I've ever asked someone to believe ... everything I've ever preached about this breed...
Was being communicated through the words... of another human being...
Who didn't simply take my word for it...
But experienced it... for herself...

And because of that experience... with Max... Carola became a believer.

Then, Carola said: "I feel so good about this. Yes, absolutely, I want you to take Max."
I responded: "I know how much you love him... so how about this? Max will live with me... but we'll share him..."
In tears, Carola agreed.


Soon, Max's transport was arranged.
And yesterday, Max arrived.

Now... he's here... with me... forever...

At first, upon arrival... I'll be honest... he was a little unsure, a little insecure, a little confused.

But then... at some point...
Max let go of his anxiety.

In a moment I'll never forget... Max walked over... kissed me on the cheek, snuggled close to my side, and fell asleep.

Just like that... Max and Ash... were family.
Just like that... Max was home...
Forever...

*To donate to help other dogs like Max, please click below:

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Always Be Kind

You just never know when something you say, write, or do ... could manage to reach someone when they need it most.

You just never know...

Sometimes, that someone may come right out and tell you how you've impacted their life.
Other times, they may say little --or nothing-- about it...

Regardless, the result is always the same:
You did good.

While it's never about the need for their acknowledgement or appreciation (at least, it shouldn't be)... many times, you may do something truly impactful... without even realizing that you've made any difference at all.

Maybe you did something for someone, simply because it was the right thing to do, and then you went about your day.

Or you said something to someone, because they needed to hear it, and then you carried on with your life.

Or maybe you wrote something for others, just because you cared, and then you went right back to work.

All the while... you have no idea... that you've just changed a life...

Often, your own actions will seem trivial, meaningless, and insignificant to you. You may assume the following: 
Other people make a difference.
Other people change the world.
Surely, I'm not one of them.

But in your mind, you know that you're a good person.
And obviously, you try to do good things.
So eventually... you're going to reach someone.

But even when you do...
If you're like me...
You probably won't realize that what you did even mattered.
You probably weren't even expecting it to.
You probably did it anyway, just because it felt like the right thing to do.

So then, after the fact... when someone comes to you and says: "Thank you for what you did. I really needed this today."
You're honestly pretty shocked.

When they say: "You reached me when I needed someone the most."
You're actually pretty dumbfounded.

And when you hear: "This is how you've changed my life..."
You're absolutely speechless.

While those words will mean the world to you --and undoubtedly change your life, too...
in that moment, you'll totally be thinking: Wait... I did that?!

You were simply trying to do the right thing.
You never expected to make that kind of difference.
And yet... you absolutely did.

To you... it may have been nothing.
To that someone... it may have been everything.

Here's the deal:
Even if we don't know it...
Even if we don't believe it...
Even if we don't use it...
We each hold the power to change something...

Sure... I'll be the first to admit my own self-doubt... especially when it comes to the idea of impacting others. I rarely think I'm capable. I'm usually just speaking, writing, or acting from my heart... with little-to-no expectation.

That's especially true when it comes to my blog... or as I lovingly call it: my dinky, ole blog. 
I write posts... and for whatever reason-- people read them.

When I write, I'm just hoping that maybe my words will bring comfort to someone. Or maybe I'll change their way of thinking. Or my greatest hope... maybe they'll feel inspired in some way.

Do I expect these things to happen? Definitely not.
Do I expect anyone to read it? I certainly don't.
But I write anyway... because there's always a chance that something good could come out of it.
And for me, that's enough.

Yet... most of the time, I doubt myself, especially when it comes to my writing.
Even though I've written from my heart.
Even though my words are true.
Even though I believe in my message.
I still think to myself: Wow. I suck.

Regardless, I write anyway.
Why does it matter?
Well... every single time... it just so happens... someone, somewhere needed to hear those words that day:

"Dear Ashley- Sometimes in life, someone reaches you, at the exact moment you needed them. Today, I experienced that moment. You were that someone for me. Thank you, Ashley. You changed my life today."

Reading messages like those, I'm always shocked, speechless, and amazed. But mostly, I'm touched.
So touched.
So moved.
So thankful... for the person who took the time to thank me... for something I never expected a "thank you" for doing...
For something I never even thought I could do.

It's an incredible feeling... to reach someone when they need to be reached. There's nothing like it.
In truth, we should all try our best to make a difference for others, every chance we get.
After all... that's why we're here.  

And honestly...
If I can make a difference... then you can make a difference.

It's not about my writing.
It's not about my blog.
It's not about me.

It's not about giving myself credit for doing something "amazing" ... 
Because what I do with this blog... isn't amazing at all.
I write posts from my heart, because I care. Then, I share them. That's it.

But here's why that matters:
I could easily allow my own doubts, my own criticism, and my own fears to stop me from ever writing anything in the first place.
Yet... I write anyway.
And so... I'm able to make a difference... simply because I tried.

Each and every person holds that same power... to change something, for someone, somewhere.
A smile can change something.
A hug can change something.
A kind word can change something.
YOU can change something.

We're surrounded by a world of people (and animals) who feel alone, broken, and hopeless.
You'll pass them each and every day.
You'll rarely know their struggles.
They'll rarely ask for help.

And yet... they need you.

A simple, random act of kindness on your behalf... could be all they need... to feel okay again.
YOU could give them hope--today, right now, this second.
All you have to do... is try.

Above all else, always be kind.

You just never know when you'll say, write, or do something... that will change a life forever. 
If you feel it in your heart, say it.
If it lives inside your soul, write it.
If someone needs your help, do it.

An opportunity is always waiting for you...
Someone is always wishing for you...
A lost soul is always hoping for you...

Maybe you'll make a difference...
Maybe you won't...
Try anyway.

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I'm A Mom, Too

Definition:  Mother-
Noun: "A woman in relation to a child or children to whom she has given birth."

According to that definition... I wouldn't be considered a "mother."
I've never conceived, carried, or given birth to a child.
And of course, I have no human children of my own.

However... according to that definition, the many women who have adopted human children --and then, loved and raised them as their own-- wouldn't be considered "mothers" either.

So, in my opinion, that definition kinda sucks.

But... what do I know, right?
I'm not a "real" mom anyway.

In the past, certain people have said to me:
"You'll understand one day, when you have children..."

They say this with certainty... as if I'll never fully grasp even the most basic of life concepts... until after I've given birth to a child.

As if the act of giving birth... is the only thing capable of making me a "real" person.

As if I'm currently living in some kind of self-involved, fantasy world that shields me from the realities of life.

And... as if I currently have no "children" of my own.

Well... I have to respectfully disagree with all of that. 

Here's my opinion... 
First of all, being a parent... doesn't make you a person.
Being a person... makes you a person.
Not one human... is any more of a person... than any other person.

Further...
Conceiving a child doesn't make you a mother.
Carrying a child doesn't make you a mother.
Giving birth to a child doesn't make you a mother.

Instead...
Loving, nurturing, raising, protecting, defending, teaching, guiding, caring, and providing for a "child"... every single day... no matter what...
That's what makes you a mother.

Loving them so much... that you're willing to place their needs well-above your own...
That's what makes you a mother.

Loving them so unconditionally... that there's simply nothing they could ever do to sway your devotion from them...
That's what makes you a mother.

Doing all of these things... to the very best of your ability... even when you don't have to...
That's what makes you a mom.

I don't care what anyone says...
Trust me...
I'm a mom.

Ask any of my dogs...
They'll tell you...
I'm a mom.

Ask anyone who has ever seen me with them...
They'll tell you...
I'm a mom.

Ask MY mom...
She'll tell you...
I'm a mom.

Maybe I'm just a "dog mom"...
But trust me...
I'm a mom.

Being a dog mom is different...
Mostly because... your kids never "grow up."
They'll always need you; they'll always want you; they'll always depend on you for everything they need... for as long as they're here with you.

It's also different, because many people don't take you seriously.
It's just a dog. A dog is not a "real child," and you're not a "real mom."

Others are offended... that you'd even have the nerve to compare your dogs to children: "Dogs are dogs. They are not people, and they are certainly not children."

That's their opinion... but once again, I respectfully disagree.

I am a mother.
I have countless children.
Yes... they are dogs.

Some live here with me...
Some live with new families...
And some have left me for Heaven.

But they are all my children... each adopted into my heart... forever.

I dedicate my life to my "children."
I spend all day, every day, with them... doing things for them. 
It's my job: I'm a mom.

I give them everything that I have, and I love them with everything that I am.
I surrender my wants, for their wants.
I deny my needs, for their needs.

When they're hungry, I feed them.
When they're thirsty, I water them.
When they're dirty, I bathe them.

When they're messy, I clean for them.
When they're sick, I care for them.
When they're afraid, I comfort them.

When they need exercise, I walk them.
When they need playtime, I play with them.
When they need rest, I rest with them.

When they need saving... I rescue them.

Of course...
None of this makes me special...
It just makes me... a mom.

That's what moms do.
And I'm a mom, too.

Happy Mother's Day, to all the dog (and cat) moms out there.
You're a mother, too...
And no one can ever take that away from you.

"Never forget for a single minute... you didn't grow under my heart... but in it."

CLICK TO DONATE TO LUCKY DOG RESCUE

*PS- Wishing an extra-special Happy Mother's Day to my mother... the woman who taught me how to be a "mom" ... because she's the best mom ever.

I'll Miss You Forever

This will likely be the most difficult post I'll ever try to write.

As I sit here... with tears streaming down my face... I'm not sure if I can do it.
I don't have the words I need.
I don't have the strength I need.

Because...
Right now...
At this moment...
I'm more broken than I've ever been.

Regardless...
I'm going to try anyway...

With a shattered heart... I share the following news:
I had to send another rescue dog to Heaven.

That's right.
I lost two of my children... in one week.
I don't have words...
I'm beyond devastated...

However, despite my pain, each of my dogs deserves to be honored with a special "In Loving Memory" post, written just for them.

Especially... this particular dog... 
She's been my baby... for one full year now.

Heidi & I

So... here goes...

This one's for you, Heidi...

On April 27, 2011, Heidi survived the devastating F5 tornado that ripped through the city of Tuscaloosa, Alabama. She managed to survive that storm... alone... outside... on a chain.

Heidi had lived on that short chain... all 10 years of her life.
She was never able to walk.
She was never able to run.
She was never able to play.

For 10 long years of her life... Heidi never lived.

In addition, she'd been forced to endure many other forms of unimaginable torture. When she was younger, her owners made the cruel decision to "crop" Heidi's ears themselves... with scissors or a knife. She'd also been neglected, abused, under-fed, and over-bred... all 10 years of her life. 

Honestly... Heidi lived one of the saddest existences I could ever imagine.

Following the storm, Heidi was rescued from one of the hardest-hit areas.
Her home was completely destroyed...
Everything was gone...
Everything... but Heidi.

Shortly thereafter, Heidi came to live with me.
For the last year... this has been her home,
and I have been her mom.

For one full year...
I was lucky enough to spend all day, every day... with my Heidi.
It was one of the greatest joys of my life... because Heidi was one of the greatest loves of my life.

When I made the decision to save Heidi last year, I knew that her chances of adoption were slim. A 10-year old, formerly-chained, severely over-bred, Pit Bull, with no ears...
She barely stood a chance...

However... after 10 years of unimaginable torture... Heidi deserved to know love. 
And... it just so happens... I've got a ton of love to give... and so did Heidi.
We were a perfect match.

For me, it didn't really matter whether or not Heidi would ever be "officially" adopted...
Because... last year, at the moment I saved her... I'd "unofficially" adopted Heidi myself.

That day, I looked into her eyes, and made the following promise: "You're home now, baby girl. And from now on --no matter what else happens-- you and me... are family. If it comes down to it, you can live out the rest of your days here with me... and I'll love you every second. I promise."

Heidi took me up on my offer. She spent the last year of her life... and the best days of her life... here with me. It was the best year ever.

Heidi brought more joy into my life than I could ever put into words. She had the kind of smile that could light up my whole world. She had this beautiful energy that could push me forward. She gave the kind of love that could set my heart on fire.

Every day of the past year, Heidi has shared that love with me. And every day of the past year... she finally got to hear, "I love you, back."

However... from a health standpoint, Heidi had plenty of issues.
So, this past year, I made sure that Heidi received every bit of vet care she needed, every time she needed it. 

Yet... that was just 1 year...
Out of the 11 years she'd been alive.
For the first 10, she got nothing she needed, every time she needed it.

And eventually, those 10 years of neglect... finally caught up with her.

Honestly...
Right now... 
My heart is just too broken to list all of the ailments that would bring me to the painstaking decision... to end Heidi's suffering.
And really... at this point... those specifics don't really matter.

In short, Heidi was old; she was sick, and she was tired.
She needed me to help her go...
And that's honestly all that matters.

Basically... this week, I realized what Heidi needed from me.
Even still, it was almost too much to bear.
I was still grieving for my Delilah, and now... I was going to lose my Heidi, too.

Delilah was here for a month...
And yet... the pain of her loss was almost enough to break me.
Heidi was here for a year... so...
I couldn't even imagine...

Sure... I could've waited... and said: Sorry Heidi. I know you're suffering, but I just can't handle this right now.
But honestly... no matter how much pain I was in... I could never do that to Heidi.

After she'd shared the best year of her life with me...
I owed her that much... and she deserved that much.

So... I called the vet, and made yet-another appointment. I sobbed uncontrollably... as I told them it was for Heidi. Of course, they already knew the reason behind it. They knew that it was time.

Heidi's last day, at the lake

Then, I asked Caycee to help me make Heidi's last day on Earth... everything she deserved for it to be...

We took Heidi down to the lake... to let her play as much as her little heart could stand. When we got there, Heidi's excitement was contagious. And even with my shattered heart... I felt an insane-amount of joy. 

As Heidi stepped into the water, she looked back at me... with this massive smile on her face. Then--without another thought-- I jumped right in with her... fully-clothed in my t-shirt and shorts. Heidi thought that was pretty funny of me.

That day...
We walked. We swam. We splashed.
We played. We smiled. We laughed.
We talked. We hugged. We loved.
That day... we truly lived.

In those moments there with Heidi... I almost... almost... allowed myself to forget ...
That it was the last day we'd ever spend together.

For the rest of my life... I'll cherish every second of that day with her... along with every minute of this year with her. Loving Heidi... was the honor of my lifetime.

Soon... when Heidi got tired of playing, we headed back to Lucky Dog.

Suddenly... reality set in. Our day of fun was over... which meant... Heidi's life was almost over, too. I just couldn't believe it... the pain was simply unbearable...

Then, Caycee offered to dig a grave for Heidi in the Lucky Dog pet cemetery.
I said, "Wait, I'll come help you." ... but she refused:
"No, Ash. Please let me do this for you."

So, as Caycee left for grave digging, I walked inside, sat on the floor, and sobbed... as quietly as I could.
I didn't want Heidi to hear me.

When Caycee had been digging for at least an hour... the thunderstorm hit.
Suddenly, it was pouring... harder than it's ever poured before.

I ran outside, looked out in the distance, and saw Caycee... drenched from head-to-toe... and still digging.
I called out to her: "Caycee! Please stop digging and come inside!"
She yelled back: "No! I'm okay!"

I stood there for a second... 
In amazement...
And in agony...
As the image of my best friend...
Out there digging my baby's grave...
In the pouring rain... 
Slowly burned into my memory...
Forever.

Caycee is such an incredible friend to me. She only refused to let me help her... because she didn't want me to dig the very-grave... where I'd soon bury my own child. She wanted to take that pain from me, and she'd wanted to do something special for Heidi.

Regardless... I wasn't leaving her out there alone, any longer.

So... I ran out into the storm... to go help my friend.

That's when I saw her... head hung low... walking back... through the rain. 
She was completely soaked... so it took me a minute to realize... that Caycee was sobbing.

She said: "Heidi's grave is filling-up with water! I tried to get it out, but it just keeps coming in! I don't want to put her in there like that! I don't want to do that to Heidi!"
The tears welled-up in my eyes, as I said: "I'm so sorry. We'll fix it. I promise."

Then... we stood there... hugging and sobbing... in the pouring rain.

When the time came, we loaded Heidi into the car, and headed to the vet.
With the rain beating down on my windshield... and the tears filling my eyes... I almost couldn't see the road.
Caycee said: "Okay, pull over. I'm driving."
I wiped my eyes, and said: "No. I need to do this. Plus, we're almost there."

When we pulled up at the clinic, I laid my head on the steering wheel, and sobbed.

I looked over at Caycee, with tears running down my cheeks, and said:

"I don't think I can do this..."

She tearfully said: "I'll be there with you."

I cried: "But... this is Heidi! How can I say goodbye to Heidi?? It's just... I love her so much."

She replied: "Heidi knows that, and she loves you so much, too."

That's when I realized...
I had to do this...
I had to say goodbye...
because it was the right thing to do...
For Heidi. 

So, I wiped my tears, opened the door, and stepped out into the rain.
Then... Caycee and I took Heidi inside... for the last time.

As I headed toward the exam room, the vet tech was waiting with a box of tissues, and quietly said: "I'm so sorry, Ash."
I mustered the words: "Thank you."

In the room, Caycee and I waited for Doc to come in.
Meanwhile, I sat on the floor with Heidi, and she gently laid her head on my shoulder.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, as I choked out the words:
"It was a good year, baby girl...
And you were a damn-good dog."

When Doc walked in... he already knew:
It was time.
As we lifted Heidi onto the table, I said:
"I'm right here, Heidi-Boo. It's okay."
Those words seemed to make it better...
For her, at least.

Then...
For the second time this week...
Doc picked up the syringe...looked at me... and asked:
"Are you ready?"

So... I leaned down, and gave my Heidi one last hug... one last kiss... and whispered one last "I love you."

Then, I looked at Doc...
And simply nodded.

In those final moments...
I looked down at Heidi... she looked up at me...
And our love for each other... was so damn real...
It was almost tangible.

My last day with Heidi

Then...
I watched her eyes glaze over...
And felt her heart stop beating...
As she took her final breath.

Just like that... I knew:
Heidi is in Heaven now.

That's when Doc stepped outside of the room, to give us a minute alone with her.
I laid my head on her chest... and sobbed uncontrollably...
As I realized that this was the very last time...
I'd ever see my Heidi. 
Heidi was gone forever.

Shortly thereafter, Doc carried Heidi to my car. 
Her body was wrapped in bags... and baby blankets.

And once again... I lost it.
I couldn't talk; I couldn't see; I couldn't breathe.
I felt broken. I felt empty. I felt... dead.

At this point, it was still pouring outside.
So, Caycee drove us home, while I curled up in the passenger seat, and bawled like a baby.

Then, Caycee broke the silence, simply saying: "I have so much respect for you today. You are so strong, Ash."
In a tiny voice... that didn't sound quite like my own... I replied: "I don't feel so strong, Caycee..."
She said: "I know you don't, but you are."

When we pulled up at Lucky Dog, Caycee parked near the cemetery, and said:
"Wait here. I'll be right back."

I knew what she was doing. She was checking Heidi's grave for standing-water, and she didn't want me to see. But luckily, it had all been absorbed by the earth.

And yet...
Unluckily...

That meant...
It was time.

I stepped out into the rain... 
And walked the heartbreaking path...
Toward Heidi's grave.

A few minutes later... we laid Heidi in the ground.

Seeing her down there... I could barely contain myself.
I was bawling... I was shaking... I was weak.
I wanted to crawl in with her...

Then... Caycee picked up the shovel... looked at me, and said: "I'll go slow, okay?"
I nodded: "Okay. Thank you."

As she gently placed the first pile of dirt on top of Heidi's body...
Once again... I lost it. I wanted to scream: "No!!! Please! Stop! That's my baby in there!!!"

In that moment...
The rain was pouring down...
My tears were streaming down...
My Heidi was in the ground...
And my world was crumbling around me.

It's a moment that I'll always remember... no matter how much I'd like to forget it. 
It's the moment when I realized...
That my Heidi was gone forever.
She's never coming back.

And then...
When Caycee was finally done...

There was a mound of dirt...
Where my Heidi used to be.

Afterward... for a while... Caycee and I just stood there... in the rain... in silence.
I didn't have the words...
She didn't have the words...
There were no words left to say...

At some point, I looked at Caycee, and said: "I couldn't have gotten through today without you."
She replied: "I know... and I wouldn't have let you."

Then...
For the second time that day...
Caycee and I stood outside...
Hugging and sobbing...
In the pouring rain...

Honestly... at that point... it's all we knew how to do.

Afterward... we turned... together... and walked back... through the rain...
Leaving my Heidi behind...

Later that night...
I walked back to my little pet cemetery...
Alone. 
It was dark... and quiet... and peaceful.

I sat on the ground, in silence.
I looked at the stars.
I picked at the grass.
I stared at Heidi's grave.

I guess I just wanted to feel close to her.

As the tears ran down my face...
I didn't try to wipe them.
I just let them fall.

In that moment...
As I sat there next my precious baby...
I really wanted to say something...
Something meaningful...
Something respectful...
Something special.

I guess I just wanted to talk to Heidi...
As I'd done every single day...
For the past year...

And for once...
Just this one time...
I kinda wanted her... to talk back to me.

Even still...
I couldn't find the words...
And she couldn't say the words.

Because I was empty...
And she was gone.

Then... it hit me...
And suddenly... I understood...
The weight of tomorrow's reality...

Tomorrow...
For the first time in a year...
I'll go to work...
And Heidi won't be there.

I'll pass by her kennel...
Kennel #25...
All day long... 
But she'll never be there to greet me.

And from now on...
Each time I want to sit next to her...
I'll have no choice, but to visit...
This heartbreaking mound of dirt...

In that moment...
As I searched for the words to say goodbye...
I had nothing.

I wasn't ready to say goodbye...
Or even to admit...
that my Heidi was really gone.


And yet...
I felt the need...
To say something.

So...
I simply said:
"I'll miss you forever."

With that...
I stood up...
Blew a kiss to the sky...
And walked away.

Knowing in my heart...
That nothing here at Lucky Dog...
Will ever be the same...

*If you'd like to donate in memory of my Heidi, please click below:

CLICK TO DONATE TO LUCKY DOG RESCUE

Goodbye, Delilah

*A follow-up to my previous post: Hey There, Delilah: http://luckydogrescueblog.blogspot.com/2012/05/hey-there-delilah.html

Today --Wednesday, May 9, 2012-- my Delilah went to Heaven.
She left the world in peace.
She left the world with love.

However... Monday was actually meant to be her last day on Earth.
I'd made a promise to her that it would be.
It was a decision I'd made... for her.

Yet... when Monday morning came, Delilah was doing a little bit better.
Not a lot better... but a little better.
And I'll be honest... it was just enough to give me a glimmer of false hope.

That morning, I took her to the vet for her follow-up appointment.
I told my vet what I was prepared to do for Delilah that day...
But first... I asked for his honest opinion.

Doc looked at her...
Then at me...
And said: "She's still got a little fight left in her, and I know how you are, Ashley. You want to give her every possible chance to make it, and you'll never forgive yourself if you don't. So, let's just give her a couple more days, and see how she does. If nothing else... she'll have a little more time with you."

Hearing those words, I have to be honest with you...
I felt a sense of selfish relief.
I'd always wanted to save her... I'd never wanted to end her life...

So... even though I knew better... I chose to see what I wanted to see in her.
Instead of the sick little girl that laid before me...
I saw a tiny fighter... who deserved the chance to fight.

Delilah & I

I didn't want to take that chance away from her.
I didn't want to give-up too soon.
I didn't want to believe that she couldn't pull through this.

But really...
If I'm being honest...
I just didn't want to let her go.

So... I rejected my gut instincts...
I abandoned my promises...
And I allowed myself to feel a sense of hope... that never really existed.



And so...  that day...
I took my Delilah home...
One more time...

Sure... for a little while... Delilah seemed a little stronger.
She seemed a little healthier.
She seemed a little happier.

Of course... that was never her reality.
She wasn't strong, or healthy, or happy.
And honestly... she wasn't even fighting for her...

She was fighting... for me.

She was smiling... for me.
She was stronger... for me.
She was living... for me.

Initially, I was blinded by hope...
Her "strength" gave me strength.
Her "fight" ignited my own fight.

But... in reality, my Delilah had all-but given up.
She didn't want to hurt anymore.
She didn't want to fight any longer.

And yet... she couldn't let go...
Not because she wasn't ready...
But because I wasn't ready. 

The truth is: She needed me, and I failed her.
I made a promise to her... and I broke it.
Not because I didn't love her... but simply because... I did.

Regardless, it was selfish of me.
It was wrong of me.
It was the wrong decision... for her.

And yesterday... I had to face reality...
Because any "fight" I'd seen in Delilah the day before...
Was gone.

Suddenly, I couldn't deny the truth: Delilah was never doing better...
She was never going to make it.
She had never rejoined the fight.

I'd only seen what I wanted to see.
I'd clung to a hope that just didn't exist.
I'd attempted to fight... because I'd wished to save us both.

And yet... I saved neither.
Delilah is gone...
And she took my heart with her.

But even still... before she left this earth...
Delilah's one wish in life... finally came true:
She was loved.

At the very least... I did something right...

Last night... on her last night here, 
I lifted Delilah into my bed...
And pulled her close to me under the covers...

Then...
Just before she fell asleep...
I whispered into her ear:

"Hey there, Delilah
I'm right here if you get lonely...
Close your eyes...
I'm by your side."

Then, this morning, I drove Delilah to the vet.
When Doc walked into the room...
He looked sick... when he saw my tear-stained face.

I nodded. He nodded.
It was our signal:
It's time.

I wiped my tears... and laid Delilah on the table.
Then, Doc looked at me, and asked: "Are you ready?"
 I replied: "Almost."

I leaned down... one last time...
And whispered into Delilah's ear:
"Remember: when you get there, ask for Rudy. He knows me."

Then, I said: "Okay. I'm ready."
I looked down at Delilah... she looked up at me...
I smiled... she smiled...

And just like that...
She was gone...

Today... for the very last time...
I took my Delilah home...
Forever.

When I pulled back up at Lucky Dog... 
I saw Caycee digging Delilah's grave...
And my heart could barely take it.

As I got out of the car... I was sobbing uncontrollably.
That's when Caycee walked over...
And gave me the biggest hug... that 2 best friends have ever shared.

Then... we laid Delilah to rest.

Today... I honored my promise to her.
Today... her suffering ended.
Today... my Delilah went to Heaven.

Today... Delilah's pain is over.
And yet... it seems for me...
That the pain has just begun...

But even still...
In my heart... I know the truth:
Every bit of pain was worth it... for each moment here with you...

"Hey there, Delilah... You know it's all because of you... This one's for you..."

*If you'd like to donate in memory of my Delilah, please click below:

CLICK TO DONATE TO LUCKY DOG RESCUE