Birthday letter to Glaze
This is a bit long, and much more sentimental than usual from me. But I wanted to observe Glaze's birthday. Here's what I wrote:
Today is May 19, 2006, and you are eight years old. Right now, you're chewing a big marrow bone. You don't know I'm writing this to you...but I believe you know I'm thinking of you.
Glazie, we've been through so much together...
When you were two: I brought you home from guide-dog school. You were so full of energy and enthusiasm! You loved to play play play, and I wondered what you were like when you graduated the first time, almost a year before. I concluded that you weren't too familiar with squirrels or brick sidewalks...but we were able to work those things out. I walked with you in Charlottesville's Dogwood Parade, and you absolutely refused to walk down the middle of the street, despite the fact that all the crazy humans were doing it. Someone told me I should discipline you and not treat you like a pet, but I knew you were just looking out for my safety. You always think you're the one who knows best.
When you were three: You started to grow up. We spent many happy hours walking through Barracks Road and the rest of Charlottesville. You discovered Chesapeake Bagel Company, and you apparently thought I should live there. I'll never forget the time when I was trying to leave after sitting outside...you somehow managed to take me back to the door three times! We took several trips, including one to Anaheim to visit Tom and Renna. You and I learned a lot about each other that year, and I marveled at how we traveled together.
When you were four: Tom died. You were with me through the most difficult time in my life. When none of my human family could go with me to California, you were there. You knew something was very, very wrong. When I would cry, you would sometimes put your head on my knee and whimper. Sometimes, you would bring me your stuffed laughing bear. You wanted so badly to make me feel better, and you did.
When you were five: I started my rehab counseling grad program on your birthday. We learned a new city and experienced dorm life. The cafeteria staff sometimes gave me treats for you, like apples and hard-boiled eggs. We had our first significant discrimination incident when the campus bus driver refused to transport us until university police intervened.
When you were six: We moved to Fredericksburg, and I adopted Mia. I thought we'd have a great time when I worked from home, but it didn't work out quite that way. Transportation was always a problem in Fredericksburg because the buses weren't running by our complex anymore. But we still had some fun times. There was that one day when the three of us accidentally went into the wrong apartment and you didn't want to leave because I told you I was going to give you dinner. And how can we forget visits with "M" and her dog "G," and with squonk and Phillipa? You were with me when I graduated from the rehab program a few days before your seventh birthday. The guy behind us accidentally sprayed you with silly string, but you never lost your dignity.
When you were seven: I was working for another employer (actually using that Rehab degree), and we came back to Richmond. At work, you were universally adored. You made me proud...except when you discovered the waste baskets at doggy nose level and decided to snack on old sandwich bits. Mia left us, and I know you missed her. but you made me feel better.
Now, you're eight. We're getting ready to move yet again. I'm sorry for all the moving around...it really wasn't what I had in mind. But we're going back to Charlottesville! Sadly, Chesapeake Bagel isn't there anymore. But I know you'll find a new favorite haunt that you won't want to let me leave.
Happy birthday, Glazie-May!
Love,
Mom
Today is May 19, 2006, and you are eight years old. Right now, you're chewing a big marrow bone. You don't know I'm writing this to you...but I believe you know I'm thinking of you.
Glazie, we've been through so much together...
When you were two: I brought you home from guide-dog school. You were so full of energy and enthusiasm! You loved to play play play, and I wondered what you were like when you graduated the first time, almost a year before. I concluded that you weren't too familiar with squirrels or brick sidewalks...but we were able to work those things out. I walked with you in Charlottesville's Dogwood Parade, and you absolutely refused to walk down the middle of the street, despite the fact that all the crazy humans were doing it. Someone told me I should discipline you and not treat you like a pet, but I knew you were just looking out for my safety. You always think you're the one who knows best.
When you were three: You started to grow up. We spent many happy hours walking through Barracks Road and the rest of Charlottesville. You discovered Chesapeake Bagel Company, and you apparently thought I should live there. I'll never forget the time when I was trying to leave after sitting outside...you somehow managed to take me back to the door three times! We took several trips, including one to Anaheim to visit Tom and Renna. You and I learned a lot about each other that year, and I marveled at how we traveled together.
When you were four: Tom died. You were with me through the most difficult time in my life. When none of my human family could go with me to California, you were there. You knew something was very, very wrong. When I would cry, you would sometimes put your head on my knee and whimper. Sometimes, you would bring me your stuffed laughing bear. You wanted so badly to make me feel better, and you did.
When you were five: I started my rehab counseling grad program on your birthday. We learned a new city and experienced dorm life. The cafeteria staff sometimes gave me treats for you, like apples and hard-boiled eggs. We had our first significant discrimination incident when the campus bus driver refused to transport us until university police intervened.
When you were six: We moved to Fredericksburg, and I adopted Mia. I thought we'd have a great time when I worked from home, but it didn't work out quite that way. Transportation was always a problem in Fredericksburg because the buses weren't running by our complex anymore. But we still had some fun times. There was that one day when the three of us accidentally went into the wrong apartment and you didn't want to leave because I told you I was going to give you dinner. And how can we forget visits with "M" and her dog "G," and with squonk and Phillipa? You were with me when I graduated from the rehab program a few days before your seventh birthday. The guy behind us accidentally sprayed you with silly string, but you never lost your dignity.
When you were seven: I was working for another employer (actually using that Rehab degree), and we came back to Richmond. At work, you were universally adored. You made me proud...except when you discovered the waste baskets at doggy nose level and decided to snack on old sandwich bits. Mia left us, and I know you missed her. but you made me feel better.
Now, you're eight. We're getting ready to move yet again. I'm sorry for all the moving around...it really wasn't what I had in mind. But we're going back to Charlottesville! Sadly, Chesapeake Bagel isn't there anymore. But I know you'll find a new favorite haunt that you won't want to let me leave.
Happy birthday, Glazie-May!
Love,
Mom