Berry’s Last Hurrah

There is a sweet feeling in my heart tonight.

My Ber will appear, somewhere, on GREY2K USA’s calendar for 2012.

Little Berry traveled a long road.  Rescued by MI REGAP and fostered by my new dear friends, she was adopted.  Long before I was involved with Greyhounds.

The idyllic world turned sour for her with an apparent unpleasant divorce.  Moved from a supposedly happy world to one turned on its ear, precious Ber resorted to survival and terrified instincts.

I met her at 6 ½ years of age.  Timid beyond anything I have ever seen.  More than Britty.  I applied to adopt her because of the timidity.  It would sit better with Schemie, the macho man.

Once I heard her story, I was sold on her.  She needed stability and unconditional love.   That I could give the little girl.  No matter what. 

No matter what included anointing a brand new carpet to the point of no return.  No matter what included her refusal to walk without Schemie after he was laid up after surgery.  No matter what included indulging in her tendency to hide in the bathtub or in the shower or under the stairs during the merest grumble of thunder.  Heaven forbid the fireworks.

No matter what included, with the onset of degenerative myelopathy, carrying her up and down stairs, holding her upright outside 6 years later.  Cleaning potty pads and attempting to put diapers on her.  No matter what, Ber Ber.

I had her foster parents over one night while their former exchange student, Risa, was in town.  I needed help changing out the soiled bed for a new one and sent an SOS.  They had their time to say farewell to the precious, timid Ber.

The next day, Ber crossed the Bridge. 

In whatever little way, Ber lives on beyond our hearts now.

Run free little bird. 

Till me meet again.