Swiss Cheese Heart

There are things in life that aren’t fair. Like not winning the billion dollar pot last night (I know, preacher. I’ll see you Sunday), how men get to stand to pee, a pimple the night before your wedding day, and losing a damn good dog.

We weren’t ready today when we got the phone call that our dog couldn’t live on this side of heaven any more. I know you aren’t ever ready, but we just weren’t expecting to take him in to the vet today only to have him taken on home instead.

Tonight, there’s a new hole in my heart that wasn’t there this morning.

Frasier came to us six years ago by aer-o-plane from the grand countryside of Mississippi. Cute as a puppy can come, that white furred baby was snuggled up in his crate covered in cedar shavings and dog poo when Alan picked him up from the Albany Airport. It was late that night, but he got a scrubbing and snuggles and a snack, and that baby slept all night. Good as gold.

His name came about from an affinity of my husband’s: reruns of the prime time show Frasier that stars Kelsey Grammar as a radio psychiatrist who would help others with their troubles and always ending his show with, “I’m listening.” Reruns saw us through and cheered us up through some trying times in our life- watching both our Dads diminishing on earth, growing a business and babies, mourning the loss of our first fur baby, Fletcher. So it seemed only fitting that our newest addition would have a moniker appropriate- Frasier- our labrador retriever, who helped us with our troubles, and who had eyes when they looked at you, looked at your very soul, and seemed to say, “I’m listening.”

For six sweet, sometimes stinky, always hairy years, Frasier was ours. We loved him and he loved us more. He was the best good dog, just like yours is to you. That dog taught us many lessons among them being:

the Dyson DOES lose suction. Frasier hair vs. the Dyson vacuum and the vacuum lost.

the more money you spend on a rug, the bigger the vomit stain. You could have every square inch of your floor covered in hard wood, with a rug the size of a postage stamp tucked under the rear leg of your 1 ton couch, and this dog would vomit on that.very.spot. Everytime. At 1:00 AM. Music to the ears, that heave.

your balls aren’t safe here. Stop laughing ladies. Yes, he was neutered. I’m not talking those. Frasier destroyed every ball that managed to land on the ground within a mile of him. Footballs, blitz balls, tennis balls, softballs, baseballs, meatballs. Gone.

the dog walks you on the leash you just think he’s wearing. You are the fool letting him drag you by the loop around your wrist. Humans.

love.

lots of love.

unconditional love.

Add to the list of things that aren’t fair above: how much he loved us. We didn’t deserve that boy with the worst case of the good boys you’ve ever seen.

While my heart is a little holey-er tonight, it’s a little holier, too. If you put the word DOG up next to a mirror, GOD is reflected back. May that reflection be reflected in me. Rest easy, Fraiser Blue. We’ll see you again one day. Until then, tell my Daddy and Alan’s we said hey. Bet they’ll scratch your chin like you like.

Good night, everybody. Frasier has left the building.

P.S. Guess what show did a reboot and came out today, of all days? Frasier. I love how God winks like that. ❤️