Sweet Cleo

The past two weeks Cleo hasn't felt well - she wasn't putting weight on her front, right paw. We took her to our vet, then to a specialist, ran every test they suggested, but couldn't find the cause. So we decided we just needed to be patient and let the muscle heal (that's what the doctor figured it was - a torn muscle).

Late afternoon on Friday, we were all home and Cleo had just gone outside. We peeked out the window and Cleo was laying on the deck with her paw under her in a weird way. When we opened the door, she laid back and lost consciousness. We scooped her up and tried to wake her up while calling the vet - they said to bring her right in. By that time she had stopped breathing and so we started trying to revive her as we frantically drove to the vet. When we got to the vet (one in town since our vet was 20 minutes away without going through the football traffic), he tried chest compressions, injected her heart, and compressions again but was unable to revive her (he thinks she had a heart attack).

And so our sweet Cleo has moved on to greener pastures. While this weekend has been an emotional one, the thing we all agree on was that she knew she was loved up to the very last minute. We were all with her telling her how much we loved her and what a good dog she was. Plus, because she hadn't been feeling well, we had spent a lot of time rubbing her belly and just sitting with her.

We will miss her more than words can express. Her internal clock that reminded everyone when it was time to eat or have a treat, her perfect hound howl, the stubborn look she'd get when you wanted her to do something, her beautiful spotted belly, her basset waddle on walks, the way she smelled like corn chips after a nap, and so much more.

Mabel also misses her buddy. She has not been by herself for more than a few hours since we brought her home. She has searched the usual places a few times this weekend looking for Cleo, which breaks our hearts. She loved Cleo, even if she did enjoy tormenting her as any little sister would.

Cleo's big paws left permanent prints on our hearts. She will live on through photos and memories and in the knowledge that she was greeted by Buster and Barkley and is now roaming the green pastures of doggy heaven.

We love you Cleo!

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My second dad

We each have a father, it's a fact of life. Some of us are lucky to have additional fathers in our lives. I am one of those.

Dad Thomas came into my life in the early 80's through his daughter, the missionary that taught K the gospel. The Thomas family welcomed us with open arms and enfolded us in love and family activities. There were many times in those first years in Utah that they fed us, let us hang out in the evenings with them, and included us in family traditions (like the July 4th BBQ).

But I think the most memorable activity was each Christmas as we decorated their house. I posted earlier about those memories and the integral part it was in our Christmas season. So many memories come from those special occasions.

Well, as things happen in life, Dad Thomas has aged and his body over the past few years has slowly given up, even though his spirit and mind were still active. And so this past Sunday, he passed from this earth to his heavenly home.

Sad, for those of us left behind, but happiness for him as he is freed from a body that was holding him back. As I drove home the other night, a song from Brad Paisley came on my iPod and I was touched by how appropriately it was timed (my apologies to those that were driving the freeway at the time as tears streamed down my cheeks). The song is "When I Get Where I'm Going" and the chorus is what started the tears flowing:

Yeah when I get where I'm going,
there'll be only happy tears.
...
Yeah when I get where I'm going,
Don't cry for me down here.

How true these words are for I know that Dad Thomas is so very happy where he is.

Tomorrow is his funeral - a tribute to the amazing man that he was. He was kind, peaceful, devoted, loving, hard working, smart, and so much more. His love of sports provided hours of entertainment and discussions. He was a loyal BYU basketball fan for many, many years and attend as many home games as he could. He loved his family, the gospel, and life. He was a leader and an example to us all.

My life is truly blessed from the years spent as part of his family and I am grateful for his love and constant encouragement and interest in what was best for me. I know he will be missed, as I miss him now, but I look forward to the day when we will be reunited.

Thank you Dad Thomas. You have made an impact on many, many lives (including mine) in ways you may never know. I love you!

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