No tornado, fire, or flood, just a loving, chewing dog

I am in crisis mode. I will talk it out here.

I was reading the Bible my parents gave me at age 16 this morning. I left it on the bed, for some reason. I know the cover is leather. I know Gracie likes to chew.

Overall, I can still read most of it. The cover and binding are chewed. I still love Gracie. Right now, I don't want to be around her. I've shut Brody out of the computer room, too. I want to be alone. I want to deal with this.

My carelessness made this happen. I've lost so many things through carelessness. Maybe Gracie's chewing is a symbol of all the losses.

I don't know.

I'm dealing with a couple of friends or three going through terrific health problems I can't do much about either.

Still, I think the chewing on this Bible would make me cry. It is a Holy Book. It came from my parents. There is no replacement.

It is the words of my faith about the Creator, who made us all, loves us all, forgives us all, even stupid Welsh Corgis who should know better, and her stupid owner who should know better too.

Okay. I've stopped crying. I will take better care of the Bible. I will take better care of the dog.

Incidents like this help new dog Brody to feel more love. He just smiles and wags his tail. Sometimes he pees the rug. He just doesn't chew on non-designated food.

I'll forgive Gracie in a couple of hours. I think.

Oh, yeah. This is reality time, each word of it. Y'all would like pictures. Well, I've signed up for a computer class to teach me.

I was bawling when I opened this blog to write. Dried up for now.

The dogs are outside, the temp is 84, there's plenty of shade and cool water.

I am still mad at her. I wonder if that's to excuse being mad at myself.
Probably.

It will take a time to forgive myself. It will take time to forgive Gracie.
i can probably fake it with the dog in a few hours. Myself? longer.
I have tucked the Bible out of sight.

I'll pull it out to pray from it again.

I'll forgive the dog, too, and myself. It's not others who have to be forgiven.

I'm not there yet.
Ohhhh, Gracie, oh, Gracie! It can never be replaced. Never.
Oh. It hurts.


Six hours later: No pages were eaten, just some of the cover. My name stamped in gold is still pristine. Gracie and I have made up. We both napped. I know now that any chewable item I leave on the bed, on a chair, or on the floor (my purse with the 4 $5 bills comes to mind) it's my fault.

Throughout my life, I've been able to help folks because at sometime in my life, I got a glimpse of what they are feeling. I still have the Bible my parents gave me, but so many have just nothing left.

Today, Gracie gave me a glimpse of their pain. Thank you, Gracie.
I hope we all can act on it for those who have lost everything in the fires and floods.

One hour later. Isn't that special?

Today I have alternately wanted to find a new home for my dog--I could not kill her--and coping.

Dogs are NOT children. The responsibility is similar.

My Corgi pup Gracie has eaten her way through a number of valuables. I keep thinking she's outgrowing it, and slowly, she is. But I made a mistake this morning, and so did she.

I am so GLAD I gave myself this sweet introspective of how this could help me help others. Piffle.

Oh yeah. Wasn't through the healing process yet, still pretending.
Damn it! My dog Gracie injured something deeply important to me. It will hurt for a while. Not unbearably, but twinge. Maybe for years.

I still love my dog. I still love my life.

Damn! don't I give her enough cuttlebones!

She's chewing on one right now. At my feet, because she loves me. OK Gracie, you win.
I love you most of all.