Simply, Reggie

I promised myself I’d write this a week or so ago. If you know me, haha reader of one, me, I procrastinated. The visceral reaction is a little less 2 weeks aged. Visceral reaction to what you say… simply, Reggie.

Reggie was a cutie pie dog who came into our life for a brief maybe 3 months. The Mister was helping a dear friend who suffered an immeasureable loss. Her partner of 25+ years went from I don’t feel fabulous, to staring down the end of his way too short, beautiful, and spirited life. When Mister said, what can I do to help, his friend said, “this is a big one and I fully appreciate no can do as a response, but could you take Reggie for a bit until we figure things out.”

We have an aging, okay nice euphemism for probably somewhere nearing end of life canine king. 22lbs of boss mahoss who rules the house. But this favor for this beautiful family meant the king would have to “deal with it”.

Mister picked up 10lb, 12lb, (who knows) Reggie one night after work. A Bichon, he came with crate, food, toys and a trainer wrap. Trainer wrap? What is this you say? A little belly wrap to help with bathroom oops. And there we were off to the races, hoping upon hope that helping Reggie meant helping Brian. Maybe it did help a bit as his Beloved said it gave him some peace knowing his canine cohorts in crime were safe.

I grew up with big, bounding, just open the back door dogs, the Mister grew up with none. The fact that we have a dog is testament to the Mister giving “the dog thing” a try one year for my birthday. A blog for another day. So two dogs, and a small dog with very distinct Bichon tendencies was new to both of us.

He imprinted on me, kind of surprising to both of us, but I am home much more, and as we learned, Bichon like the caregiver to be home. They can do alone but someone at home is much preferred.

Also quickly established, Reggie is an AM guy like me so the two of us started prowling the neighborhood while the world still slumbered. Prowled does not do justice to the marathon training this dog was interested in. He sniffed out the right turn into our driveway very quickly, but had no need to go home if more walking and exploring was an option.

And I fell in love.

Even canine king recognized something was not fully right in the castle. Periodically he would attempt a hip check of Reggie to show him who was the king and who owned the female human, and Reggie gave it right back. I was conflicted as my canine king has been with me for 12 years, but Reggie needed some real TLC and we were on a mission to provide it.

Life happened, and immensely sad, a death happened. And in the most inconsequential detail, I was told I have to be back in the office 4 days a week. An office that is 70 minutes away. So what were we going to do, and what was Reggie’s real family going to do.

Many details and surely another blog for another day, the logistical decision was made to find Reggie a home with “Bichon people”. I knew it was the right thing but all too soon moving day was upon us. I gathered up all of my pal’s things and readied him for pick up. He was so damn aware, and giving me the look, effectively saying…..this…this is how our short but deep love connection will end??

Mister’s dear friend arrived on a Monday morning to transport Reggie to his new home. She thanked us for our friendship and really it was us to thank her. Reggie looked at all the activity and his final opinion as he drove away was to give me the silent treatment, a pointed look away, not towards me.

They drove away, my heart broke, and the tears erupted. I sobbed a full Hallmark cry, head in my hands unable to look up or speak. I felt like I had let him down and after he suffered loss, he was on the move again. His disappointment was real.

Two weeks + removed I can tell you he ended up with Brian’s Beloved, not with “Bichon people”. Not how the story was supposed to go, but exactly as it should. She has so so much on her plate but she told us that Reggie and her dog Buddy are the good parts of her day. I take solace in this resolution.

We dug deep, we wanted to help and for a short period I think we did. We all have reserves right? I know this from running, almost always there are a few miles more in the tank. But this was the heart, happy to report I still have one. It is fragile, caring, weak, strong, breakable, and able to mend. Lucky me.

You too have reserves. And when you need to use them I …..

Hope to see you along the way.

Simply Reggie