{"id":672,"date":"2010-10-18T16:45:22","date_gmt":"2010-10-18T23:45:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/?p=672"},"modified":"2010-10-18T22:49:45","modified_gmt":"2010-10-19T05:49:45","slug":"i-love-lucy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/i-love-lucy\/","title":{"rendered":"I Love Lucy…The Sweetest Dog In The World"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a><\/a><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Christmas, 1945.\u00a0 My mother and I stand in a long line-up on Christmas Eve to pay a bill.\u00a0 I cling to her side, a tired and cranky six year old. \u00a0I want to go home.\u00a0 I hate this Christmas.\u00a0 Daddy won\u2019t be with us. \u00a0Daddy built a sailboat with my cousin, Johnny.\u00a0 They called it \u201cThe Skylark\u201d and took it for its maiden voyage on Chestermere Lake, just outside of Calgary.\u00a0 It was the Labour Day weekend,\u00a0 Sunday, September 2nd<\/sup>.\u00a0 A wind came up, the boat turned over.<\/p>\n

Daddy wasn\u2019t a strong swimmer. Johnny made it to shore.\u00a0 He looked back, saw his uncle Kit was in trouble, and went back for him. They both drowned, caught in the weeds in the lake. \u00a0Mom had just given birth the month before, and was now left with three little girls and no money.<\/p>\n

I had been very mad at Daddy when he went to drive away that sunny morning.\u00a0 I wanted to go on the sailboat.\u00a0 I crossed my arms and pouted as he prepared to go.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cHow come I can\u2019t go?\u201d I whined.\u00a0 \u201cI love sailing.\u201d I didn\u2019t know what sailing was, but if Daddy was doing it I wanted to be there. \u00a0Daddy tugged at my braid and kissed me on the top of my head.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can go next time,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor sure?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daddy got into his car and waved goodbye.\u00a0 There was no way I was going to wave back. \u00a0No way.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Dorothy Anne. You can\u2019t stay mad at me,\u201d Daddy said, grinning at me. \u201cCome on, wave.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

He was right. I could never stay mad at him for long.\u00a0 I waved.\u00a0 I raised my arm and waved.<\/p>\n

\u201cNext time,\u201d he shouted as he drove away in his rattletrap of a car.<\/p>\n

I adored my sweet, funny, skinny Daddy.\u00a0 He carried me on his shoulders when we came back from Grandma\u2019s every Sunday, and sang love songs to my Mom, Bessie, all the way home.\u00a0 He made life exciting and fun and safe.\u00a0 Now life was no longer safe.\u00a0 I clung closer to my mother.<\/p>\n

\u201cDorothy Anne, let go of my leg,\u201d Mom said. \u201c I can barely walk. We\u2019re almost done, and then we can go home.\u201d<\/p>\n

I released my death grip on her leg and turned to see a man carrying a cardboard box, coming up the line, chatting to people.\u00a0 When he reached us he showed me what was in the box.<\/p>\n

There were three black-and-white spotted puppies, wiggling and nipping at each other\u2019s ears.\u00a0 I knew Daddy had sent one of them for me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom,\u201d I said, \u201cLook what Daddy has sent me for Christmas.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

Mom looked down into the box.\u00a0 Her features softened.\u00a0 I thought she was going to cry.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich one has Daddy sent me?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Dorothy Anne, it costs money to have a dog.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut this dog is from Daddy,\u201d I insisted.<\/p>\n

The woman behind us asked how much he was asking for the dogs.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne dollar, special Christmas rate.\u201d<\/p>\n

I reached in the box and picked up the smallest puppy.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the only girl,\u201d the man said. \u201cShe\u2019s very gentle, good for kids.\u201d<\/p>\n

The puppy looked into my eyes and her tongue came out, pink and wet and she licked my face. She had ears like dark velvet, and brown liquid eyes. She was the most beautiful dog I had ever seen.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is the one Daddy sent for me,\u201d I pronounced.<\/p>\n

\u00a0Mom was at the counter now and paying her bill.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cOh, Dorothy Anne, I don\u2019t have a dollar left,\u201d she said, counting her change.<\/p>\n

\u00a0I started to cry.\u00a0 Then I began to howl. The man looked at me and at the puppy who was nipping my ear.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cHow much do you have, lady?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThirty-five cents,\u201d said Mom<\/p>\n

“Merry Christmas\u201d he said. \u201cThe dog\u2019s yours.\u201d \u00a0He quickly grabbed the change from her hands. \u201cJust get your kid to stop bawling.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0I hugged the dog to my chest as\u00a0she wriggled and squirmed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to call her Lucy,\u201d I pronounced.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope she doesn\u2019t grow too big,\u201d my Mom said.\u00a0 \u201cYou have to take care of her, walk her, feed her, clean up her you know what.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will, Mom, I will, I promise. Mom, let\u2019s go home. Lucy\u2019s getting cold.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wrapped Lucy in my blue scarf grandma knitted for me, and we took the bus home.\u00a0 Mom put Lucy in her big shopping bag because we didn\u2019t know if we were allowed to take a dog on the bus.\u00a0 We giggled when we got to the back seat without being discovered. Suddenly, Mom didn\u2019t look so sad.\u00a0 Her face looked almost happy, like it used to look. \u00a0Lucy kept quiet if I let her chew on my fingers.<\/p>\n

That night, in bed, I curled my body around Lucy\u2019s.\u00a0 \u00a0I told Lucy about Daddy\u2019s dog, Mikey, who had been so sad after Daddy died, and always looked for him at 6 pm when Daddy came home from work.\u00a0 Mikey was a border collie and Labrador cross and Daddy said he was the smartest dog he\u2019d ever seen.\u00a0 I told Lucy how I had found Mikey in the yard a month ago, on that cold November day, jerking uncontrollably in the snow by our front fence.\u00a0 I screamed for Mom, but it was too late.\u00a0 I saw the partly eaten piece of poisoned meat by the fence. The person who had poisoned four other dogs in our neighbourhood, had also poisoned Daddy\u2019s dog.\u00a0 Mom couldn\u2019t stop crying.\u00a0 When she did, she phoned Uncle Bob and he came down to bury Mikey in the frozen earth.\u00a0 We all cried, partly because of Mikey, partly because of Daddy, and partly because it took so long to dig a hole and we were freezing.\u00a0 Lucy listened carefully to me, her eyes full of love.\u00a0 She was one of the world\u2019s great listeners. She knew I was sad.\u00a0 She was there to make me happy again.\u00a0 She rolled over and I gave her a tummy rub.\u00a0 I saw that she even had spots on her belly. Her eyes closed and she went into a trance.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Daddy,\u201d \u00a0I said.<\/p>\n

Lucy of the velvet ears was my guardian angel for the next fourteen years.\u00a0 When I went to university she became Mom\u2019s guardian angel.\u00a0 Mikey may have been the smartest dog, but Lucy was the sweetest.\u00a0 Mom always said it was the best 35 cents she ever spent.<\/p>\n

Dorothy’s Bio<\/strong><\/p>\n

I strive to live life with a compassionate heart and a playful, loving spirit. Who says life begins at 40?\u00a0 For me it begins at 70.\u00a0 At 70 I took up djembe drumming, zumba dancing, trained as a Hospice volunteer and in Therapeutic Touch, had my ears pierced and let myself be picked up in WalMart by a lovely Italian gentleman for a cup of tea.\u00a0 I also went back to work with adults with a chronic mental illness.\u00a0 It is wonderful to be doing meaningful work again.\u00a0 The clients teach me so much about courage and the human spirit’s ability to survive and thrive. I feel blessed.<\/p>\n

Dorothy’s son, Lee Beavington, \u00a0is an award-winning author and poet. This is his website:\u00a0 Author, Biologist, Stargazer<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Back to Stories<\/a><\/h3>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Christmas, 1945.\u00a0 My mother and I stand in a long line-up on Christmas Eve to pay a bill.\u00a0 I cling to her side, a tired and cranky six year old. \u00a0I want to go home.\u00a0 I hate this Christmas.\u00a0 Daddy won\u2019t be with us. \u00a0Daddy built a sailboat with my cousin, Johnny.\u00a0 They called it […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":19,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[12,19,29],"tags":[13,124,131,14,17],"class_list":["post-672","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-animal-companion","category-children","category-loss","tag-animal","tag-children","tag-loss","tag-pets","tag-spiritual-2"],"aioseo_notices":[],"views":10054,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/672","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/19"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=672"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/672\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=672"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=672"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thriveinlife.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=672"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}