Sweet Polly

Sunday, December 17, 2023

Sweet Polly

Sunday morning, and two days ago, I said goodbye to my Sweet Polly. It has hit me harder than I could have ever imagined. Polly has been in my life for the last 12 years, brought to me in a strange and convoluted way. Polly was born on June 11, 2011. I had just lost my little Jack Russell terrier, Jake. I had Jake for 17 years, and he was my, our world. My ex-Frank and I got Jake after we moved to Treasure Farm in 1994. I suppose he was a baby substitute, and when he died, it left a huge, sad space in my life.   

My brother Stacey had a friend that he met in rehab, Brian Bradley. Yes, that Brian.  I hadn’t met him yet. Stacey talked about him all the time, and they bonded and became good friends. At least as friends as you can sort of be with a narcissist. Brian raised long-haired dachshunds, and one of his females got impregnated by accident, and Brian being the lazy, irresponsible POS that he was, needed someone to take care of her and the puppies. It was completely irresponsible of him to let it happen.  He had several dogs in a kennel next to the house he was living in. There were 2 intact males that could have potentially been the father, and one of them was this dog’s father. He didn’t know if Red was the father, in which case it would have been better, since they weren’t related. Pip was her name, and it turns out Geronimo was her father and subsequently the puppies’ father/grandfather.

This happened in the late spring of 2011, and Brian was starting to get busy with his seasonal work. He did educational bird-of-prey shows for a living, and winter was the slow season, with spring marking the start of his much-needed busy time. He was too busy (more likely, he knew how fucked up it was for this dog to be pregnant by its own father, and a cowardly avoidant stint) to take care of a litter of puppies. I was still in mourning over Jake, and this would be the perfect project for me.

Being ever the narcissist, Brian came over to the farm with Pip to meet me, and he needed to have a sense of control, so he wanted to check it all out and me. She was heavy with puppies and terrified. She had never been out of the kennel except for the fenced-in back yard of his house. Brian’s dogs were not treated the way most of us treat our dogs. His dogs were “hunting” dogs and were not used to individual treatment or the creature comforts of living in the house with him. There were too many of them, and they lived in kennels and crates. Brian was obsessed with his own line of dogs, and he used them to hunt rabbits with his red-tailed hawk. That is another story for another time, or not.

Pippy was beautiful and terrified. She was a dappled dachshund with a merle coat and long, silly hair. She was black, grey, and brown. She had a blue speck in one of her eyes, like Brenda Starr, which she passed on to her daughter, Polly. I felt so bad for her and wanted to hold and comfort her, but Brian was leery of me and didn’t want to give her up. The meeting went well. Even Daisy, our other little Jack Russell, loved Pippy too. Brain left and had to think about it. The next day, he wanted to set up a time for me to come and get her. He had decided to let me take her in and whelp her puppies. 

When she arrived, she was terrified. Terrified of me and really scared of Frank. I had to get a collar on her. I needed to have some control until she settled and knew we were not going to hurt her. As I tried to put the collar on, she tried to bite me. I just talked to her and told her she was fine, and finally, she allowed me to slip it on. Now I could take her out and walk her. She had no idea about walking on a leash or bathrooming outside, but slowly she got it. I was working from home then, except when I had to go see customers, so she had me around all the time. Soon, she was settled and bonded to me. Frank, not so much. I felt bad for him because he loves animals. Who knows why she was so scared? She became a really good little dog and lay by my chair when I worked. I took her out several times a day, and she loved it. After a while, she didn’t need her leash anymore and followed me everywhere. Oh, and yes, she slept next to me every night. 

My niece and I picked her up on Memorial Day weekend, and she had the puppies on June 11 and my poor mom passed on July 18. Mom loved the puppies, especially Polly. Helena and I were present at the birthing. The first puppy born was Polly’s brother, Ellwood.  Ellie was named after Ellwood Blues from the Blues Brothers. He looked just like him. Polly came next. She was so beautiful, and Helena was the first to hold her. There were two other boys, but they both died. Ellwood was a double dapple, meaning that two dapples had produced this puppy. Breeding two merls is harmful because their color genes can cause birth defects such as blindness and deafness. Ellie had one blind eye, and the other didn’t work that well either, but it didn’t hamper him in any way. He was such a special little guy I have ever known. And there was no doubt about who the father was, their grandfather, Geronimo. They all had wild, crazy, long hair of all kinds of colors and the same adorable expressions on their faces.

Ellie was the clown and got tons of attention, whereas Polly was more subdued, with a quiet, gentle nature. I have many videos of her and our cat, Sammy, cuddling and kissing one another. She was a digger and a watchdog. She loved to hunt but was also a princess in the house, loving her fluffy beds and snuggles with Frank and me. After they were born, Brian came over to see them. He was horrified when he met Ellie because of his little eye. And I think he wanted Polly because she was so beautiful.  There was no way I was giving up either puppy, and Brian had to accept it. 

Soon after the puppies were born, my mom passed away from breast cancer. Frank was having meltdowns all the time, and my world was in flux. I knew that I had to do something about it all. Frank had no work and was acting desperately. It scared me that we were in this place. We had been caretakers for 20 years, but we couldn’t stay on the farm forever. With Frank in a mental health crisis and no work, I felt stuck. His dad was very sick and dying of cancer. He went to Texas to see him and help out. I took that time to pack his stuff and take it to his brother’s. I needed some time to be alone, and Frank needed to stop relying on me for everything and pull himself together.

Through all of this, I had my puppies and Daisy, who was my other Jack Russell, by my side. Not long after Daisy passed. She lived a long and happy life, lasting a whopping 17 years. It was very sad as she loved the cat and the puppies, but she was over the Rainbow Bridge with Jake. I was alone on the farm with the puppies and my horses, and my landlord wanted me to stay. He sort of looked out for me for a while until I met and got involved with Brian. I have documented some of my relationship with Brian, at least the sensational end, so I won’t go into that here. Suffice it to say that we met on the farm, and we both loved that life. Unfortunately, my landlords did not like him, and that was a fundamental reason they asked me to leave. It wasn’t just that, of course, but it certainly played a huge part.

Leaving a home that you’ve lived in for a 25-year chunk of your life is stressful and scary. Brian was there, but not really, if that makes sense. All I had was my dogs. I had to find homes for my horses, and that was the beginning of the end of my identity as a caretaker and horse owner and the person I identified with. My horses were one of the most important things in my life, and I sacrificed a lot to have them. It was heartbreaking, but I had no choice. Huge life changes in 3 years. And Polly was a constant and my comfort. Ellie died prematurely, and it devastated Polly and me. But Polly and I weathered the tragedy and bonded even more tightly. Then, I got Calvin. I wanted him for Polly, as she missed Ellie terribly. Polly took to Calvin immediately and mothered and loved him. We were a snug little family and moved to our new house with hope and excitement.

Wednesday, December 20, 2023

Missing Polly

It is afternoon. A cold December day. I took Cal and Angel for a good walk today. We did 2 miles at
Wilson State Park, and I went into the woods and trails to avoid all the big dogs and their people walking off-leash. I am so worried that a big dog will hurt Calvin or little Angel.  Angel is afraid of everything. She is a nervous little dog and barks incessantly at other dogs and anything she perceives as a threat, which is almost everything. Today we went deep into the woods, and they got to run wild, which is good in every way. They need to be dogs and run and sniff and play. It is good for me too, as I need exercise for my physical and mental health. But it wasn’t the same. Polly was missing, and her absence was felt profoundly.

I must say that I miss Polly more than I could ever imagine. Nothing is the same without her. When we came home today, we came in the front door, and I almost thought that Polly would be waiting there like she always did when I walked the other two when she didn’t want to come. And this morning I got up to make coffee, and I missed her sitting by the stove waiting for something to eat before her insulin shot. She always sat by the stove. God, how I miss those little things. Polly was my special girl, and she just knew. She knew everything, and I didn’t have to tell her. In the mornings, she would come next to me and then worm her way onto my neck and shoulder, and we would do morning lovies where we shared our love and secrets.  But I just close my eyes and pretend she is there. I imagine her soft, silky coat and her little face next to mine, and I just sob.  It’s so not fair. But it is what it is. I had her for 12 wonderful years. But I want more. I wish she were here with me. Maybe she is.  I will close my eyes and kiss…