Now You Know the Rest of The Story, Beverly Hicks Burch

“Now you know the rest of the story…” ~ Paul Harvey ~

Grief and sadness were like twin haints who sat on my shoulders for months. Sometimes I felt like a TV zombie going through repetitive motions. Oh, sure, I had good days, but they were good days under a cloud.

There was a bittersweet spirit hanging over the house where Tall & Handsome and I lived.

By now I know you’re asking, “What caused such grief in the Burch house?”

I guess you could say it was an abundance of unforeseen pain, suffering, and heartbreak. And, let’s face it, the last four years have been pretty rough on most of us. Add to that a piling on of more worrisome health diagnoses and a family member diagnosed with dementia.

And, then, the final straw or I should say the final two straws broke.

Again, you ask, what would cause such heartbreak?

It was the sadness and heartbreak caused by the empty hole in our hearts and house when we lost both of our beloved fur babies within a couple of years of each other.

Yes, my friends, the loss of a pet can cause such unmitigated sorrow and leave you with a heavy heart. In the case of T & H and me, we don’t have children together, so our pets are our babies.

We first lost our Miniature Schnauzer Watson in January 2019 to cancer. He was thirteen and a half and was our crazy smart, little boy zipped up in a dog suit. Watson was rehomed to us when he was two weeks shy of his first birthday. A close friend had some life events come out of nowhere that made it impossible for him to keep Watson. He picked us to be Watson’s new family and said it was one of the best decisions he ever made.

We knew it was an awesome decision for us because we gained love on four legs.

     Watson

Then, in July 2021 we suddenly lost BabyGirl. She was here one day, one night right as rain, and by the next afternoon, she was frolicking with Watson over the rainbow Bridge. The vet said it was old age.

BabyGirl was our Miniature Schnauzer mix and our rescue dog. And, she was a Mamma’s girl for sure. Her nickname was Gray Ghost for a reason. She followed me everywhere, even to the bathroom.

Her first trip with me to the bathroom was a little unnerving at first. It was a first for me and probably her, too, and I can honestly say it had never appeared on my bucket list.

BabyGirl sauntered up to me and plopped her head on my knee. Those pools of chocolate surrounded by impossibly long eyelashes looked up at me and wrapped me in absolute adoration.

“Seriously, BabyGirl. You want to do this now?”

I could tell by the look on her face not only did she want to do it now, but it was her hands-down favorite time and place to do it.

       BabyGirl
                                                                                

With Watson and BabyGirl both gone, we were now “empty nesters” so to speak. The house seemed hauntingly quiet and empty. No little black noses, wagging little stumps, and jumping little legs greeting us when we’d return after being gone 10 minutes- a torturously long time in a Schnauzer‘s life.

I poured out my grief to my Daddy and I heard his heart break for me.

And, I poured out my grief to Tall and Handsome and told him I just couldn’t do this again. I couldn’t have my heart broken again and again. It was my way of telling him no new family fur members.

Wrapped in his arms, my face buried in his tear-soaked shirt, I wept and wept. Finally, he quietly said, “Honey, just give it some time. You may feel different later.”

So, I gave it time. A month passed, two months, three months. I was still in the “nope” stage. My heart was still broken and a box of Kleenex sat by the bedside. I couldn’t stop mourning my little girl who had such a rough start in life before we adopted her. I wanted her to have a longer life filled with cushy spoiling, plus when she looked at me with those adoring eyes, you could almost feel the oxytocin pour out – bathing me in liquid love. She was telling me I was her best friend.

As fall approached, my heart was like the pumpkins that sat at the roadside markets, kissed with frost.

Then, a funny thing happened as the holidays approached. The frost on my heart began to thaw. The nudge started one evening as we were setting on what we poetically call our king-size dog bed, reading.

Hark! What did I hear from far yon side of the bed? “I want a dawg,” Tall & Handsome tossed into the quietness of the room.

“Excuse me, what did you just say?”

“I want a DAWG!”

Oh. Boy.

We knew we couldn’t afford a puppy, so, I began going online and looking at shelter after shelter, and rescue group websites “dawg” pictures. It broke my heart. I ended up crying every time. I told T&H it was like looking in concentration camps for dogs. He even put a mandatory pause on me looking because I would get so emotional.

Finally, I started praying. Yes, I said praying. I believe the faith of a mustard seed can move a mountain.

Then, one evening after the repeat chorus of “I want a dawg” I looked at T&H and passed on what I thought was a worthwhile suggestion.

“Honey, if you want a dog, this is what you need to do every day. Pray for the right dog at the right time at the right price.”

His baby blues looked back at me with astonishment. I could hear the gears in his head, “Really!? I can do that? That’s not too small of an ask?”

“No, that’s not too small or frivolous. He feeds the sparrows in the fields and He knows the number of hairs on our head. So, He knows where the right dog is, and at the right time and right price.”

So, the wishing and hoping (Tall & Handsome’s MO which now included that prayer) and my breaking heart and prayer continued for several more weeks.

One night after reading a while before bed, I put my tablet on the charging stand, turned out my bedside lamp, and settled in for a cold winter’s night. Suddenly I heard an almost audible voice say to me, “Have you used this particular search parameter to look for a “dawg”?

I sat straight up in the bed as swiftly as a vampire rising out of a coffin, “Why, no I haven’t.”

Being my father’s daughter (do it now!), I reached for my tablet, opened a browser, and typed in that particular search parameter. Up popped a website I have never seen or visited before in all my months of searching. I applied certain search filters and began the chase down this new rabbit hole.

Picture after picture, I gazed at the faces of dogs being sold or rehomed, but none fitted our specifications. I was about ready to give up when I saw it – the face that would melt a thousand hearts – or at least the heart of two “empty nesters” longing for a dawg. Could this be it?

Four-year-old male thoroughbred Miniature Schnauzer is being rehomed due to recent medical situation in family making it difficult to take care of the pup.

Ok sounds promising but WHERE is he located.

We are in the Birmingham, Alabama area.

My heart skipped a beat. Is this it? Is this the prayer being answered?

We’re requesting a $100 rehoming fee.

Had I been a trained opera singer, I would have burst out into Handle’s Hallelujah course at 2:30 in the morning. This WAS the answer to prayer.

Instead, I sent a text and asked if the little fellow, named Oscar was still available, and then I woke up T & H and told him. The first thing he asked was, “Have you contacted them yet?”

Done and done.

Early the next morning my phone notification chimed. A text saying yes indeed Oscar was available.

And, by midday he was ours and now Oscar Burch, adored fur baby of two formerly empty nesters.

A trip to the vet for a check-up left our doctor amazed at the wonderful dog we had and the story. He raved over what a fine dog he was.

The icing on the story happened one day when Daddy dropped by the house. He pulled something out of his shirt pocket and sheepishly said, “Something to go towards the new little fellow”. It was a $50 check.

Turns out he wanted a granddawg as much as we wanted a dawg.

And, now dear friends, you know the rest of the story…

© 2023 Beverly Hicks Burch All Rights Reserved.