A half-empty nest.

Kodi in his element-water sports.

Chance overlooking the pond.

Stoli in the sink.

I didn't get to have children. . . and I didn't find out till my early thirties that I wasn't able to have children because I never wanted one till then. I always thought when I want one, I can have one, I mean...why not?

So we (my husband and I) have pets. . . and even though I don't have children of my own, I do consider my niece and great niece "mine" even though I didn't have them? why not? But don't think silly. . . just because we don't have children, doesn't mean our pets are our children. We're not insane. We love animals and incorporate them into our family they are not so much our children as our "wards". (even though we call them "our babies") I'm lucky to have found a man who has very similar beliefs to mine. In that when we have a pet we have a responsibility to take care of him, even before ourselves. Even as things became hard on us financially over the years, our pets did not suffer. As a matter of fact, when we couldn't afford to buy something for ourselves, we still bought for the dogs.

When you've been with a person for 13+ years. . . you can go through quite a few pets. Unfortunately we've lost three and all three were oh-so-painful. It has been 36 days since Kodi passed and a day hasn't gone by that I have looked for him. More often than not, I swear I hear him give a big "sigh".

You see, I loved the way Kodi looked at me. His soul was in his eyes. He hid nothing and openly expressed a devotion so deep it was often daunting because his eyes said "I love you more than you'll ever love me". His eyes said "I see you for yourself, no pretenses, no fake face, all your naked fears and faults and I still adore you." His eyes said "It is okay if you sleep now, I'll keep watch and protect you so feel safe." His eyes said "Show me your worst and I'll accept it with no questions and return to you with nothing but love."

And through all the years together, I only felt on the night he passed that I was able to offer him the same. Even that night his eyes said "you're going to be okay and I'm scared too." But my eyes told him "it's okay if you rest now, I'll keep watch and protect you, so you feel safe, so sleep baby." And my husband cradled his head and his mouth said "you can rest now, you can rest now it's okay, I love you Kodi but not more than you've loved me."

And isn't that the difference between children and pets? Parents tend to love children more than the children love them in the beginning and as years go by, sometimes it the depths of love level out. And sometimes they don't until the parent or the child passes and left alone, we love what we miss.

But your pets always seem to love you more with each day that passes. And it's a mystery as to how they can give such devotion without question. Without want of proof...with just a bowl on the floor half-filled with dry food and water.

And writing about these feelings has been a great cleanser for me and my soul. A release of internal turmoil over having to watch the animal that you've been screamingly in love with for 10 years die in your arms. I am dealing with my own beliefs of death and beyond. And how I see Kodi now even after he has passed. I am dealing with my own mortality and what I think I should do with my life. And I am still crying and feeling very down but each day I notice that I feel a little better. I do better typing about him than talking about him. I am proud of the fact that I can mumble a few coherent sentences before tears start to fall and I have not worn mascara in 36 days because I can't predict the onset of waterworks. Who can? But I know that I'm doing at least 10% better than I was on December 3, 2009. And I know on February 2nd, I'll be doing better than I am on January 6th.

Michael and I have some "internal" work to do and I hope we can do it all together. We've set goals and we're working towards a new life without Kodi. And we have Taz, our Chocolate lab but he's like a slug on my couch 90% of the time. He has always been a "if it ain't gotta be done, don't count on me to do it?" kinda dog. He's more like a CAT. He even "twirls" in circles on the couch about 100 times to get comfy like cats are known to do.

We have a "half-empty nest" here on Seneca Street. We're not happy about it either, but we're living. And we know we owe Kodi a life or two because his was cut short and because he spent so much of his life protecting ours.

We've also had the opportunity to talk to a few Chessie breeders about future litters. But we know we have time. And we want to go slow and pick our kind of dog. We don't want to get a puppy just to try and replace a one-of-a-kind animal. A member of our family. A friend. A confidant. As I said before, anyone who met Kodi and took five minutes with him, loved him. He didn't just work his charms on my husband and I. My sister enjoyed him so much she volunteered to come over to watch him. And my mother called both of our dogs her "grand-sons". Even though she hasn't asked me about him much, I think she's scared to upset me. But I am sure she misses him too. He adored her and knew when she came because she said "Grandma's here". And Kodi would bark and bark to greet her.

And I want to get to a point that I can talk about him. And be overjoyed that he was in my life. I want to be able to hear my husband say "I miss him so much" and not feel a lump in my throat. Not only because my husband lost his hunting buddy but because we had a fleeting moment with a truly amazing creature.

So even though we're at half-empty now, we plan to be stacked and packed in some distant future with a Chessie puppy OR puppies. As far as I am concerned and if I have any say, it will be puppies. . . to honor the leader of the pack previous...Kodiak Bear and Chance. With Stoli the cat following a little to the side and behind.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for being here. Post. Comment. Love. Hugs.

Kelli

Ode to Kodi Continued

The things I didn't count on:

I've seen other blogs and mine isn't fancy. It's not full of pictures and links. Honestly, I don't even know how to add multiple pictures to this page.

I started the blog mainly because during a survey for our business, several clients requested that we start a blog. And of course, I thought why not? A happy customer is a ...happy customer! So I began by introducing myself, my family, our business, etc. And believe me when I tell ya, I don't have any writing skills! But I'm game.

I never knew this would become a forum for my personal expression. I'm not the smartest chick you'll ever meet but I can be pretty quick. And it never dawned on me that in a matter of months I'd be using our blog to bare my soul to any hapless stranger who stumbled upon this page. But events lead us to places unforeseen. And I feel I have to follow this path, right now.

If you've followed the blog, you might have noticed I haven't posted since Halloween. Significant changes have been happening all around me and when I get overwhelmed I tend to throw everything aside and set my mind to the task at hand.

The main task at hand was keeping my Chesapeake Bay Retriever, Kodi, happy, serene. . . peaceful. Kodi was diagnosed with cancer in June when we returned home from our first ever Bead & Button show. We came home on a huge HIGH from having a successful show only to be hit in the head with a hammer because of our babies illness.

Over the last few months we've spent countless hours feeding him healthy food. Staying up all night most nights baby sitting him. Talking to him. Taking him swimming. Bathing him. Brushing him. And so much more.

Kodi spent the last ten years of his life with either me, Michael or one of my family members, mostly my sister Tarlee. The only time he wasn't with Michael or I was when we had to be out of town. He went to work with me almost every day (we had a room for both dogs in the back of our bead store), he went hunting with his father, he went to the store, he rented videos with us, he went with us to my Mom's house, to the lake. I really can't think of a single time that he wasn't with me or my husband. He was so determined to ride along with one of us that we were forced to buy vehicles that would allow us to bring our dogs with us where ever we went.

If one of us got up to go check the mail, he thought we were going somewhere and literally walked so close to us (as not to be left "behind") that his nose touched our butt. If we stopped (which we often did for our own amusement) he typically ran into us. We had to clutch our keys as to not make any noise to get out of the house without him. It was a game! But now it's a habit and it's breaking our hearts to pick up our keys trying not to make any noise and Kodi isn't here.

There are a zillion great stories about Kodi that we can share here. Like he loved to hunt Carp in frozen ponds! We would take him out duck hunting and he would go on to frozen ponds to break the ice and Carp fish. I have no idea how many unsuspecting fish he drug from frozen ponds and tried to bring them over to us! Poor fishies...

He loved water. I've never seen a dog so adept at swimming. He was never "introduced" to water as most dogs have to be, he took to swimming more so than most aquatic life I've seen. Using his tail as a rudder, he could swim without the use of his front legs and he could swim forever. As a matter of fact, a couple of weeks before he passed, he swam to the middle of a pond and wouldn't come back to us! We thought we were going to have to go in and get him. And forget calling him out of the water. . . he would just stare at you like "Okay, did you idiots run out of things to throw again?"

Kodi was passionate about everything he did in his life. From chasing/fetching his soccer ball, to patiently sitting waiting for 10pm to obtain a treat, to learning new "tricks" like opening doors, to waiting on us to wake up, to fishing or hunting. He was also hard headed if he wanted something, such as going "bye-bye". We learned early on that "NO" wasn't part of his vocabulary! But we learned early on that we really didn't have to punish Kodi for any misbehavior's because his yearning to please us was so strong that he rarely made any mistakes. And when he did, a strong vocal reprimand was all it took to straighten out the problem.

Kodi never complained. He lived for a long time with cancer. And he never complained. He went with Michael into subzero weather and retrieved water fowl and was ready to go again. He got up at 3am or 2pm and was always in a good mood and ready for whatever Michael and I wanted to do. All he wanted, all he asked is "to go with us". . . and we let him.

While Kodi was sick, during my evenings, nights, days spent watching him. We talked ....errr I talked, he listened. And I told him all my secrets. All my fears. Told him that it was going to rip my heart out to have him go but I promised him, knowing the pain I would be in, that he would NEVER experience any pain. And after months of illness and thinking of myself as having had closure (because we knew he was dying, thinking you've got it all figured out)


The hardest part of his passing is something I didn't expect. I didn't expect to look over to find him not there. I didn't' expect to call his name and have him not be there. I didn't expect to fill his bowl to have him not be there. I didn't expect to open the car door to put groceries in the back, to look at his seat, to have him not be there. I never counted on all the areas of my life that he affected to be empty and a void. I didn't realize how much I counted on HIM to be me. How much of him was me. . .

And I know that time is what it takes to make this okay in my heart and in my head. I know that as much as Kodi lived his life to the fullest he would want us to continue on the tradition he started in the Burns household.

As much as he tried to please us with his every waking moment, he would be mad at us if we didn't live and continue living because he spent so much of his ten years teaching us how to live our lives. And he was a very good teacher.

I am sure I'll write more later. . . thanks for reading. Posts are welcome.

Ode to Kodiak Bear. . .

When Kodi got sick in June, we had many days of vet visits, crying, hope, laughter, pictures and memories. I am sure everyone feels the same when a family pet falls suddenly ill. What we believed is he was fine one day and ill the next. But Kodi, like a champ, had been dealing with cancer for a long while before he outwardly started showing signs of this horrible disease.

For the last seven months, we had not left Kodi alone for more than two hours by himself with the exception of one day (our family was out from California and we spent the day at a park). Sometimes getting no sleep, staying up with him all night. Seeing that he was let out, if he got sick, he was cleaned up, the mess was cleaned up and so on. . .

On Monday, Kodi was out in the yard playing ball with his daddy, Michael. On Wednesday evening December 2nd, 5:10pm, he was gone.

Kodi lived his life to the fullest and as I sit and try to lay words on this page, I realize that without a doubt I will never be able to pen what a terrific animal he truly was here for you to read?

I will say that my life as well as Michael's will never be the same. Kodi will never be replaced. We are truly better people for having him in our lives. I can't sit here and say that his life was better for having known us, but I can say that our lives are richer for having had a glimpse of his love.

In the last 7 months, Michael and I learned patience. We learned that giving is better than getting. We learned that no matter how bad it got, if Kodi could do it, we could. We learned that there was no sacrifice to small for someone who is completely and utterly dependent upon you to take care of them.

Kodi is buried on a hill overlooking his old hunting grounds with his favorite blanket and toys. I can't think of a more fitting way to say goodbye to him than the words of W. H. Auden from my favorite poem. I can't say goodbye yet Kodi, but I promise I will. For this moment, right now a poem and a kiss on your wet sloppy lips. muwahhha

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message HE IS DEAD,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.