My dear Mandy, you've made such a difference in my life. Poo had been gone for over a year and I was still unable to accept his death. I didn't think there could ever be another dog who would touch my very soul as he had. Part of me had died with him. You showed me I was wrong.
Ray was at his wits end watching me grieve for my Poo. And on Valentine's Day of 1984 he walked into the house carrying a female poodle that looked a lot like my Poo. He did it out of love, he thought he was helping me. Her name was Missy and somehow I just could not accept this dog. It may sound silly but I looked at her and couldn't help but feel resentment that she was alive when my Poo was dead. She was a gift from my husband and I didn't love her. So I decided that maybe if I got a second poodle I wouldn't compare them so much. Answering an ad in the local paper, I landed on the doorstep of an elderly lady. Her sister had died and she didn't want her poodle. The poodle was in bad need of grooming, looked under nourished and unloved. Her name was Missy's Mandy May and I bought her.
That's how you came to live with me, Mandy. You didn't like me one little bit when you first came to live with me, even biting me on several occasions. Maybe it's because I knew that you really wanted someone you could love and trust; maybe it was because you reminded me of my Poo (he was a little rascal when we first met); whatever the reason, I was determined to gain your trust.
Missy, the valentine present, went to live with a friend of mine and you, Dear Mandy, became my major concern. The groomer wouldn't groom you, you bit her. You refused to let the kids near you, you would have bit them if they had cornered you. You bit me if I moved too quickly or tried to force you to do something you didn't want to do. You were a real trial.
But I persisted and slowly we became friends. I purchased clippers, blades, a grooming table and assorted tools; determined to groom you myself. Well, I've a few scars from it, you looked silly on many occasions, but somehow we got through it and a miracle happened--we learned to love each other. You blossomed, each day accepting new experiences with courage. I will always love my Poo, but I wasn't crying everyday. Our love developed slowly but surely.
Well, Mandy, as the years passed you and the kids became great playmates, Ray was your cusion during the night, I was your companion during the day. Your temperment changed to that of a well-mannered poodle, your comformation showed through as a very nice example of your breed. I ended up learning how to groom, going to dog shows and realized my love for the poodle as a breed.
We had a few litters together. I became a poodle fanatic, devouring all the information I could find on the breed. You couldn't grow hair fast enough for me to groom and other poodles joined our family. We entered dog shows, you went along as our companion. And we opened a grooming shop. You changed the course of our lives, Mandy. I will be forever grateful to you.
When you were 7 years old I felt a lump in one of your breasts. It was malignant and 2 of your breasts were removed. You became even more precious to me, if that were possible. Then one morning, 2 years later, you appeared bloated, swollen. Off to the vet we rushed. The cancer had returned. You fought a brave fight, my Dear Mandy. You were retaining fluid and your heart was severely damaged. There wasn't much the vet could do for you but give you medication to ease your symptoms. For 2 months we refused to leave you home alone, wanting to be with you every minute you had left. You had a pillow bed in every room in the house and the shop. You followed us from room to room, lying on your beds as we did our work. You were having a hard time controling your bladder, but that was okay, carpet can be replaced. Every day, Ray and I would ask each other if your time had come, trying to access your condition, wanting to keep you with us every minute we could but not wanting you to be in pain.
One morning we just knew it was time to call the vet. We didn't want you to suffer and felt we owed you a loving release from the disease we couldn't make go away. I called the vet telling him we would be bringing you in as soon as the last grooming dog was picked up. But you had other ideas. While I was putting the finishing touches on the last dog, you stood up from your bed and walked to my feet. I picked you up and held you. I told you how much I loved you. I placed you back on the floor and turned to ask Ray if he wanted to hold you and you collapsed dead on the floor. My Dear Mandy, Did you know what we were preparing to do that day? Some how I think so. I think you knew and you wanted to save us the heartache of that last car ride.
We each had to earn what became total love and respect for other. I guess that is why you are so very special to me. You gave me so much and I will always love you. Your granddaughter, Cory, lives with us now. She is like you in so many ways. She doesn't give herself to just anyone, but once you earn her love and respect, she gives it back without hesitation.
I think of you each day, Mandy, and knowing we'll be together again makes life's road a little easier to travel.