My online summer class is over. My last class with ACC. Yesterday I read the final paper, scored the last final exam and calculated grades. One plagiarist, one who missed the final exam, one who didn't write the final paper. So, certainly, not an all happy ending. I've already heard from the first two, who of course want to contest the results of their grade - and the last one won't care because she still passed. Welcome to education.
I felt a bit of a flutter of emotion when I closed down the computer last night, knowing I was now finally and formally finished with that college. It's the same as always at the end of any semester, just like the end of the race when I was doing triatholon and marathon - how something so big and consuming, now over, could end with so little bang. Whoop-dee-doo. I finished my class. Who cares? Now what? It's almost a bit of a letdown - emotionally - to feel it come to nothing, and I just want to break away from that feeling, put it behind me, forget about it as quickly as possible.
That compounded with my situation with Isabelle left me a bit of a wreck - I had to get out of the house. As much as I feel like I want to be with her and spend time with her, yesterday it was just too much, and I needed to be apart from her.
We went shopping - mind you - I hate shopping, so this is a desperate act - but, it felt good given the muggy heat wave here - spending the afternoon in the environmental hell of air conditioned bliss. I got my copy of the new Harry Potter and another book I'm considering for my fall classes. We shopped furniture and clothes, house gizmos and finally dinner groceries. By the last stop, though, I was feeling anxious to be home again. I was worried I had left the dogs too long. Worried Isabelle would be suffering heat stroke. And generally, just wanting to be near her again.
Of course all was well when we arrived home, Isabelle picking herself up off her carpet to greet us, no doubt from a sound sleep.
Today is better for me in terms of accepting her end of life. I am thinking of each trip up and down the stairs with Isabelle and how much harder each step becomes. She has to sleep in the basement now, because of her late night accidents, but, given the heat, it's better for her there. It's just that it's another set of stairs she has to climb each day. She's slower in the morning, better at night. But yesterday, even after walking her, a puddle of urine on the porch as she wagged her tail. And that's one I give her medication for. I look for leaks in the roof, denying for a moment it could be her, then let the sinking feeling have its place.
Today I made a plaster imprint of her foot. It's something I've been meaning to do for a while now, and figured I'd better get to it. Of course she accommodated without any resistance, stepping into the cool sludge. It's something, I tell myself, something more than memories and photos. Something I can touch. Because, when she's gone, I will still care, and I don't want to forget.
1 comment:
Here I am sitting at work, "borrowing" a wireless connection from someone and crying, crying, crying. Dear Denise, Dear Isabelle. How I wish I was there for a walk, or a good cry with you both. I'm free from Thursday morning til monday night if you need me, all you have to do is ask, I'll be right there. I want to be there for two of my favorite gals. I may be 3 hours away, but I can be there in a 'jif. I remember losing my Tiz pup when I was a senior in high school. We grew together, saw so much together, experienced so much change together; kinda like you and Izzy girl. His loss is part of the reason I have never let a dog into my life since. I feel for you, Dearheart. I'll be ther eif you'll have me.
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