It's been a rough past couple of days here at the Heartbeat house. Please forgive my somber post but I need to share.
On September 9th, I received a call from our DFA director. She was sobbing to me that we'd "lost Sherry". She'd found her dear friend on her kitchen floor. Her dogs waiting faithfully by her side.
Sherry was a woman that would tell how it is and how it's going to be! She was dedicated to DFA, our pups and our families. Her death is nothing short of devastating to DFA. Meanwhile, my husband has been asked to fill in for Sherry as a behavioral advisor. As if anyone could replace her.
On a personal note, she is the lady who brought us McIver and allowed us to keep him on that January day almost two years ago. I am saddened when I think of all the DFA births Sherry witnessed. Our Nikki is a daughter of her beloved Jethro. My husband and I liked to sit with Sherry and our director after the dogs had run on the farm for a bit. We enjoyed her stories and her outlook on life.
She also had a fondness for terriers and had a couple of rescued terrier mixes. For those of you who have trained terriers, you know it is a love/hate relationshiop. She spoke often of her beloved Othos, the best GSD known to man! Hopefully, she has reunited with him.
And of course, the anniversary of 9-11-01. I was 21 when it happened. I had graduated college the December before so I was back at home waiting tables. I sat down with a bowl of cereal and turned on the TV just after the first plane hit. I watched. My mother called from the elementary school where she teaches. She wanted details. The towers collapsed while I was speaking with her the second time. I shook, I cried, I sobbed. My mother tried to comfort me but how do you comfort someone in that situation. Thirty 8-yr-olds needed her comfort as well. She needed comforting as well. I knew what it meant. It meant death and uncertainty.
Like a good southern girl, I called my Daddy at the local nuclear plant. I got through in the beginning but then the lockdown came. As I was driving to work Daddy told me to go to work, stay there and come straight home after my shift.
Work was somber to say the least. People tried to eat as the news anchors tried to maintain some degree of professionalism. It was silence. Waitresses with tears and tear-stained faces brought food to tables.
Then there was anger and solidarity in patriotism. Then there was war and more death. I am fairly neutral on the war. By that, I mean, I can see both sides. My husband is a war veteran from the post-Desert Storm and Bosnia time frame. I am thankful he has provided service to this country and I am thankful he is not "over there".
In the end, this time of year fills me with sadness for all of those lives lost and families left behind.
However, because of my love of dogs, I am uplifted by the stories of dogs helping soldiers and civilians with related injuries such as PTSD. I am uplifted by the care and comfort our canines provide to those serving in the desert and those who searched at Ground Zero. I am uplifted by the posts of rememberance from overseas.
I will never forget.