This will be the last of my daily blogs. I have been privileged to have an outlet for dealing with my grief and in the wonderful responses and words of sympathy and encouragement from so many of you. It has helped more than I can say. Is my grief over? No. It never will be "over." It has become manageable and has reached a perspective from which I can deal with it. There are still occasional tears and an emptiness in this house that will not change until Huey comes to live with…

     My older son was married yesterday evening. They chose a Monday because everyone who was important to them could be there. It was a small wedding in a park gazebo. The weather was great and the park was beautiful. Adam was the one who carried Morgan Stinky Wink to me almost twelve years ago. He is also the one who dug Wink's grave and carried him to that final earthly bed.

     I thought of Wink during the ceremony, and how Adam had been there for the major events in our life…

     I remember when Wink was just a puppy, maybe six months old, he was lying on the floor in my study, chewing on a nylabone. I was working at my desk. The next thing I knew, there was a blood-curdling yelp and he jumped about two feet in the air, running to me, and getting under the desk. I looked at the spot where he had been lying, and there was his nylabone, right next to an electrical cord. In his enthusiastic chewing, he had nipped into the electrical cord. Thank God it was just a…

     Suzanne Clothier writes: "Don't show me what your dog can do when you give him a command; just show me how you and he walk down the street together, and I'll know much more."

     Walking a dog is an experience, as you all know. While there is some routine to the process, each walk is somehow unique. The last real walk that Wink and I took was about two days before he got really ill. It was one of our long walks--the kind that took a long time. I know it's a temptation to read…

     There is one thing I still have to do, and I have been putting it off. Stinky Wink's collar and leash are still hanging on the hanger with my coat in the closet next to the front door. That seems the hardest thing to do--even more than picking up the toys, for some reason. He loved walkies SO much. I plan to use the leash for baby; that seems like a nice continuity. But Wink's collar will be retired, and put with the other things of his that I am keeping in a memory box. He only had one…

     One of Stinky Wink's favorite games (until about the last month of his life) was tug of war. He would play that with any toy that was big enough for both of us to hold. There was one toy especially, which had a "handle" on it. I would hold the handle and he would get the bigger part in his mouth. I was always amazed at what a strong little booger he was. He would plant those back legs and there was no moving him! I was inevitably the first to "give in." From the first day, he loved to…

The other day I mentioned Suzanne Clothier's book, Bones Would Rain from the Sky. I'm still reading it. It's not a fast read because everything she says is so important; it's impossible to scan. In Chapter 5, "Walks With Dogs," she says, "We are, at every step, together, without the need for words, bound by the heart's invisible leash, unmistakably connected." I believe that everyone who loves a dog feels that...as do the dogs we love. Dogs are great at sensing what we are…

     There are little daily things where Wink and I were so connected that they seem incomplete now. Since he was just a puppy, we had a shower game. When I got ready to shower, he would run for a toy, and I would toss it across the room. He would go after it and then sit patiently by the shower, waiting for me to come out. The next big event was the hair dryer, which he cursed at loudly. That was our shower routine! Then we moved to the house where we are now. He liked this house because it…

For some reason last night was not a good one. It seems like every time my wife is away and I go to the store, coming home sets off a chain reaction. I know that no one is there, the tv is not on, most likely the house will be dark, and no wiggle butt greeting me. Then, as I get closer to home, I see our major walk route, the bush where Stinky Wink would stick his entire head inside, and a thousand other little reminders that we will not be walking later. By the…

As I am beginning to put my grief into perspective, and cling to the good memories of our life with Stinky Wink, I am learning to look at that life from different angles. And I am finding that it was even better than I thought it was when grief was clouding my every thought. Last night I was looking at a couple of Corgi Rescue websites. There are some truly sad stories there. One seven-year-old lady had spent the majority of her life in a puppy mill. Now it is taking some real adjustment for…

I have become convinced recently that one of the aspects that impedes grief management and healing is the mistaken idea that healing means forgetting. And we don't want to forget our beloved pets. But nothing could be further from the truth! The rough and winding road to healing is not a straight line from point A to point B, as much as we might like for it to be. But neither is it an endless road. The truth is that we need to follow that road with our pet. No, I'm…

Stinky Wink was a gift from our older son. He and his wife had two Corgi boys from the same litter, and PawPaw took care of them during the day, since I had a job then, where I could mostly work from home. When they got a divorce and she moved to another state, she took the boys with her. I was devastated. In addition, we had just lost our 17-year-old Cocker mix, who died in his sleep. One day, here came Adam with Stinky Wink. Although there had been three other dogs in my life, Wink was the…

It's raining this morning. We need it after the dry summer and fall of last year, and even the moisture-less winter. Even though Stinky Wink loved snow, he really disliked rain. If the rain wasn't too heavy, he would "permit" a short walk. I would don jacket, umbrella, get the leash, and we would usually go to the top of the front lawn. He'd lift his leg a couple of times and head back to the house. If it was raining hard and I knew he needed to go out, I'd open the patio door. He would…

My wife and I each have a handled basket. They are green to match the kitchen and sit on either end of the sideboard. They are catch-alls for mail, etc. etc.--basically to keep stuff from lying on the cabinets. Every once in a while we "clean them out" and make final decisions on what's inside. I decided to do that yesterday. I came across a piece of folded white paper with something inside. It was Stinky Wink's county tag. We had gotten his shots just a week before he got so ill, and I had…

I am certain that things are better on this side of the door--the healing side. Will I always stay on this side? Probably not. But I know it's here and I know how to get here. I'm sure I'll make trips back and forth through the door--at least for quite a while. I still tear-up when I think about Stinky Wink and how awfully quiet this house is during the day. He was such a wonderful friend and companion. The statue for his grave came yesterday. I have seen him sit that way so many, many…

I was out in the back yard yesterday afternoon, checking on the many flowers which have decided it is spring. I hope they don't get an unpleasant surprise. I also came across a couple of Stinky Wink's old toys. He had an odd habit. Very often--but not always--when I asked if he wanted to go outside, he would grab the closest toy he could find (or go hunting for one) and take it outside with us. Once outside, he would drop it in the grass. He never played with it, and I could never figure it…

There is a rather long scar running down the center of my chest. It is a reminder of the heart surgery I had two years ago. Amazingly, I remember little of the surgery or the pain involved afterward, or during recovery. It's a reminder, but the negative aspects have faded. Instead, I remember that my life was saved; I remember the excellent care of doctors and nurses, the love of family and friends. I also have several small scars from gall bladder surgery last year. Though much less…

I decided that I would write an obituary for Stinky Wink, just as I would for any family member. It has been a great healing activity. I thought I would share it.

Morgan “Stinky Wink”

Hugh Owen Morgan of Cardiff, better known as Morgan “Stinky Wink” was born 27 May 2000 on a farm near Raymond, Illinois, to AKC Pembroke Welsh Corgi parents. In August 2000, he came to live with his human parents, Randy and Arlis DeJaynes of  Decatur, Illinois, brought there…

We have lots of sunshine this morning, and that helps in the grief management process. The past several days have been dark, which really tends to add to a gloomy attitude. I'm beginning to remember our routines together with happiness rather than loss. Usually I drive our "walk route" at least once a day because it's the only way out of our neighborhood. For a long time it bothered me because "walkies" was one of our favorite times together. But last night my wife and I decided to go to DQ…

I think the ability to manage grief is very much connected to our ability to place situations in perspective. Last night I finally realized clearly that letting Stinky Wink go was not what was best for me, but for him. My reluctance to let him go was because I would be lonely. I would lose my best friend. I would hurt. But love can--and must--move beyond all those me-oriented feelings.When we can…