Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Dreaming with a Broken Heart

I dug a hole last week. A big, deep hole, and I laid Azure in it.

And since last week, we have tried like hell to learn to live with the big, deep hole she left in our hearts.

I have spent the past two days tearing through my CD collection looking for the perfect song to put with these photos. Among the candidates: “Joyful Girl” by Ani DiFranco, “Round Here” by Counting Crows, and “Drunken Angel” by Lucinda Williams.

As it turns out, Azure was highly photographed. She was always into something, giving us cause for exasperation and jubilation. I have long maintained that while we, the bi-peds, are pretty unremarkable, the krewe makes us vicariously interesting. Azure, meanwhile, tipped the scales from amusing to downright zany.

As her final act of defiance two weeks ago, she ate the seat out of her favorite chair, the ugly green/brown plaid one featured in many of these photographs. When she had dug out all the stuffing and the springs were erupting from the chair's innards, I asked K if she thought I should drag it out for the trash company to haul off. Azure continued to use the chair, shooting us annoyed looks as the springs poked out and she tried to twist her body and avoid the non-cushioned parts, so K said to leave it be.

I hauled the chair to the “curb” Wednesday after I buried Azure. Like Azure, it turns out it held a conspicuous place here at the Farm.

No one has tipped over the toy box for a week now.

When I empty the vacuum canister, there isn’t hardly any toy fluff.

Phone conversations are not punctuated with the rattle of a puzzle ball richocheting off the trailer walls.

The food Mercy tosses out of her bowl in protest of her anti-allergy diet sits waiting for us to sweep it up, since Azure doesn’t scavenge behind her any more.

We no longer keep a two-baby-gate pile-up at the bedroom door, because Azure was the only one who would challenge the single-height barrier.

Until it was time to wash sheets today, no one had “torn all the covers off the bed.”

The three dog beds in the living room remain completely intact.

We have not plowed through a dozen pig ears, pork rolls, and stuffed Kong © toys or a jug of animal crackers in the past week.

For the first time in a long time, chaos has not been the order of the day.

So why do we feel broken into a million pieces?

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

MisFits, across the miles, we never stopped loving her. Two hearts in MN grieve tonight for the little blue-eyed, pink-piggy face dog, with the impish spirit. She was one of a kind.

Anonymous said...

I am so very sorry. Looking at these pictures you can tell that Azure loved and that she was loved in return. You can't ask for a better life than that. Your krewe will be in our hearts until we can see you in person. Bryan & Kathy (and Savannah & Jackson & Piper)

Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. There were a number of times when I was reading your blog that a story about Azure made me literally laugh out loud. I know she will be missed greatly.
-Melissa, Josh, Ben and Molly-girl

Unknown said...

I am deeply sorry for the loss of Azure. She always had, and will continue to have, a special place in my heart. I can only imagine what you (and the Krewe) are feeling. Leans and drools...Amanda

Anonymous said...

I hadn't allowed myself to feel the words yet, "Azure was put down." I busied myself with my life and my everyday comings and goings and didn't let those words rest, not in my head, not in my heart...not on my soul.
I finally summoned the courage to gaze at your blog...it was an impulse- an action of no premeditated nature or thot, by any means.
Knowingly,I am able to feel your 'hole' to feel your sorrow and to feel your pain. I also viewed the memorial video and smiled, chuckled and even laughed out loud a few times thru my tears.
She was loved from the day she entered my home until the day you released her. She was ultimately loved.
thank you, tls

Anonymous said...

My heart is certainly breaking for you. She was a beautiful girl and you did a wonderful job with her.
Remember I told you that she liked to get on top of the garage because her name was Azure after my favorite top of the line Bentley. I always said to Kathleen that I wanted her along with the car so she could ride in it. Well, now she is riding in it in heaven. You are in my thoughts and prayers.