A tiny drop of Blyss Borzoi joy! & Poem for Paris

Today, I am celebrating the joy that for me can only happen in July, the month of my birth.  Yes, I am put squarely in Cancer and it has put its stamp on me perhaps more than genetics, rank of birth, education, or other parameters one uses to measure a character.  Foremost for Cancerians, I need an intact home and loving family to be satisfied, and I am willing to kill myself working hard to have them.  That’s pretty much what I have done with my life, although looking back on it now, I realize I did not know it then but see it very clearly now.  For most of my life, I thought I came from a rather normal family of origin where the parents loved their children and the children reciprocated in kind.  However, when I was in my fifties, a course of events transpired, precipitated by the death of my father in 1997, shattering that myth, indicating my beliefs  were terribly wrong.  The shock and horror made me become terribly ill for a long time.

As traumatic as it was, this insight helps me because it sheds light on my patterns of behavior throughout my life, including those that  may not have been good for me.  Although I had far more weights on the “accomplishment” side of the scale, the negative characteristics carried more weight in my mind and oppressed me until I felt crushed under the weight of a large, black shield.

At that time, I found myself well into middle-age and happily married to my husband Robert.  In 2003, amidst this turmoil, we decided to establish Blyss Kennels as the solution to our emotional pains.  And it worked on many levels for a long time.

By 2008  I was able to retire early and totally immersed myself in kennel life.  In Decemeber of that year, Mikhailya whelped her only litter, one that proved higher in quality than any of us imagined at the time, although they were all excellent borzoi puppies.  I remember being dizzy with joy during this period of my life.  Robert still worked, and I was busy all day with the borzoi and maintaining our beautiful home on the first Watchung Mountain ridge.

There is more to the story though, there always is.  And this is not the venue for it.  It is the story however of the importance of knowing oneself and what form your demons take.  You may find them to be strange bedfellows.  But through the resilience of the human spirit, if called upon to help, you can stare down your demons until they die.  A demon can never look you in the eye, it is too ashamed.

 

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On that note, I am missing my Blyss Paris very much.

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I have left his bed in the corner of the room where he lied,

his grooming tools are still on view, his leash and collar hang nearby,

and I am always listening for him to make a sound,

even a little squeak he makes.

How cruel Fate can be

to strike him down and his nobility!

to take my Paris away from me.