Yesterday, at 11:15 am on the 3rd of January, 2011, our "Brie" quietly took her last breath.
Brie is my kindred spirit. She was the happiest little girl ever in the canine world. She grinned, laughed, and played in a constant state of harmony. She never fussed or complained about anything. She was the one we called our "clown".
She came to our home beaten, abused, and emotionally distraught. But, she never gave up on life, and we certainly never gave up on her. She worked through her 'issues' and grew into the most courageous puppy I've ever seen. Brie became our mediator in our household. If a tiff started between a couple of her siblings, she stepped in and smoothed it over, before it escalated. Brie turned everything, and I do mean everything, into a game. Her sweet outlook on this world was a big ball of FUN!
She knew how to push the lever on the fridge door and get ice cubes--oh Lord, she kept the thing empty! Loved to eat ice cubes and shared them with the others. She could jump up and hit the switches to turn on lights--oh yes, it was nothing to come home from anywhere and have EVERY single light on in the house! For a German shepherd, she excelled brilliantly. And didn't have one agressive bone in her body. She loved everyone, never judging them...human or animal.
Brie died due to a peri-anal fistula. They are horrible. We fought it with every antibiotic on the market (both canine and human)-- for the past three years. She didn't complain with all the pills she had to swallow, or the constant cleaning and medicating her little bottom. I actually scheduled personal activities around Brie's medicating and cleaning routine and would say how Brie's butt ruled our home. I didn't mind. And I'd give anything to still have that routine. My heart feels withered as a raisin right now. Next month she would have been 13.
I know in the days ahead, I'll still glance at the doorway to see if she's peeking in at me, or hear her soft chuffs, or her toenails on the floor...in the days ahead, I know I'll catch a scent of her soft breath--
Yes, Brie was my kindred spirit--and now, the other half of my kindred is gone.
SABRINA MARIE GALBIATI 2/6/98 - 01/03/11
Cherri
It's 4:15am and I'm taking a quick break from my current work in progress (WIP). What a thrill it is for a writer to wake up in the middle in the night with words pushing out in abundance to get typed on screen or written on paper.
This is what I live for.
The characters in this story are unfolding before my very eyes, giving me insight into their lives that I certainly didn't predict them to go. This is what's called, "listening to the inner voices." And sometimes they can really surprise us.
As in all my short stories and novels, this novel also has a German shepherd. She's smart, funny, and full of herself. She reminds me so much of our Brie! (but with a little more attitude-lol)
Coffee's perked, the house is quiet, except for the people vying for attention in my head--so I must return to my writing.
Happy Trails,
Cherri
Finally straightened my head back on my shoulders and have quit jumping from project to project. To fix my dilema of writer's A.D.D., I spent the majority of last night plotting out a new series. I'm back on track and am NOT going to fall off the saddle again.
This series will, of course, include Penny Nelson's wonderful German shepherd, Alibi. She's cute, fiesty, and full of spinach and vinegar.
The first in this series will leave you gasping--as my protagonist is going to take some pretty bold chances in life. Just wait till you see what she does to the person who murdered her grandfather!
Excited, happy, and writing on--
Happy Trails,
Cherri
It's HOT! I'm already dreaming about Winter and wishing for snow.
This weekend was dedicated to my husband. Steve and I cooked, laughed, held hands, and spent quality time together. Funny how when old married couples grow used to the other and forget -- we actually sat down and remembered our dreams, our goals from when we first married. We've accomplished quite a few! And are still adding to that list of goals. We live simple lives...we like it that way. It takes only a second in time to complicate and we've chosen the harder route by striving to keep it simple. It works for us.
However, in between the meals and chats, I wrote non-stop in my mind. I've got a great plot running around and can't wait to get started plotting that rascal out. My goal to begin this project is July 1st of this year. And I'm looking forward to see what I can do to with it on my own. (I hear rumblings from the pubbed groups out there-Don't! Wait! Are you out of your mind?????) To all the nay-sayers, it's gonna be okay. By the time this novel is finished, I'll have a strong plan for promoting and am anxious to see how it does--on my own! What have I got to lose? Heck, I'm a newbie writer, so not much. Living by words of wisdon--"if you don't try something new once in a while, the outcome will never happen."
Happy Trails, keep smiling with your chin up--
Cherri
Recently I encountered someone who informed me they had never met a dog with a lick of sense. At first, I thought about it and then realized I would just have to talk about it.
If you took an average four-story office building and put all the people together and squeezed out their 'common sense,' you wouldn't have enough to fill a thimble.
Yet, every dog I've met could overflow a barrel with good old fashioned 'common sense'. Why? It's simple. Dogs act and react using Mother Nature. They don't analyze everything to death--they act upon the situation, using Nature's instinct. Still, dogs hold compassion and honesty, never swaying in their decision.
In every book I write, in every short story, I include dogs. Why? Because a sense of pride fills my heart to share some of our dog's antics. As I've said before, I'm partial to the German shepherd breed and can not give you a reason why I'm drawn to that particular breed, anymore than I can explain why my favorite color is red. They just are and it just is.
To write with my pack of dogs surrounding me is the perfect zen for my environment. They touch the softest, most tender part of my soul--my spirit.
Happy Trails,
Cherri
