(excerpts from 'the TRUTH prevails' by Ric Berrong' to be published in 2009)
Saddi, my love. Words have yet to be invented to express your meaning to my life and heart. Today I am a better person because of your love and devotion. When life tries to bring me down, as often it has, there is always you who reminds me of what truly is important and a smile returns to my life. And what is it that is truly important? It is you, Saisar Saddi Berrong.
In 1983, I was lost and confused within my life, then on August 13 everything fell apart for me when my best friend Scruffy, a poodle mix, died. For years I lived under a blanket of guilt and deep depression because of her death. Just as I felt the urge to lift myself up again, Frauline, a german shepard, who Scruffy had mothered and befriended, died in my arms. I had never really trusted two legged friends as much as I did my four legged friends and now I was alone.
In 1996, there had been mixed emotions about welcoming another doggie into my life, but mostly only thoughts. I had visited shelters, looked through the newspapers, even going to mall pet stores, but there was never that connection. Mostly I worried it was my own fears of being abandoned again that did not allow me to feel anything. On a warm May 10 afternoon, a family friend, who had only recently was mourning her own four legged friend, invited me to join her to go look at puppies being given away. At first I said I couldn't, but she convinced me to just come and look with her.
As we pulled up to the house, the mother dog barked loudly, something she did during our entire visit. As the humans opened the door, out ran two eight week old puppies who instantly began running around the yard and playing with one another. Crashing into tree's and each other, rolling across the yard of grass and dirt, jumping, biting, barking and just being puppies. But just as the torn screen door to the house was about to close, out walked a black ball of fur. With her brother and sister still playing all around us, creating a small dust cloud as they played in the dirt, this tiny bear cub looking doggie walked down the stairs of the porch and began walking across the yard. Her brother and sister running all around her, but she gave them no attention as she walked directly towards me. When she finally reached me, she sat herself on my foot and rested her head on my leg to look up at me. My friend suggested I pick her up, but I insisted I wasn't ready. "No, just pick her up to see what it feels like" she urged. I bent down and saw these soft brown colored eyes looking into my blue eyes, I lifted her up and she placed her head against my neck as I wrapped my arms around her. At that moment I realized, she picked me.
I brought her back to the house and we played in our own yard. She would chase me and then I would chase her. But after weeks of living outside with her seven other brothers and sister, Saddi smelled and smelled bad. So I picked her up and took her to the kitchen sink, while holding her I turned on the water, ensuring it wasn't too hot and adding some soap to create bubbles. I started to lower Saddi into the sink, but she had other idea's and it wasn't a bath. She began crying and holding onto me tighter with those needle sharp toe nails. I finally go her into the water, but she was not happy at all. She stood up and put her front paws on my chest, looking at me with such sadness, her nails deeply attached to me, as I washed her, talking to her the entire time. Later, when I went to take my own shower, Saddi stood by the door crying and barking. I stepped out of the shower and opened the door asking her if she wanted to join me, but of course not. So I left the door open so she could still see me through the shower curtain.
That first night, as I laid myself in bed, Saddi sat at the foot of the bed whimpering. I told her it was her bed to and to get up there and be comfortable. And she jumped onto the bed, laid her head on the pillow as I put a blanket over her and we drifted off to sleep.
Saddi has always hated to get wet. Baths are nearly impossible and when they are a must, I need to get into the shower with her. Once they are over and she is dried off, Saddi ignores me for a period of time. Sitting on the bed or sofa, she will just glare at me, but it doesn't last very long. One time we went to the beach, as I opened the door and put on her leash, Saddi jumped out of the car and pulled me as she ran towards the ocean. She was still a puppy and I was an extra large human, but she was pulling across the sand. As we reached the ocean I was surprised that she went into the water, only enough to cover her paws, but there she stood, that is until a small wave brought water up to touch her belly and then she was pulling me back to the car.
Except for my going to work or out where I couldn't take her, Saddi and I were never apart. And never was there a night we didn't cuddle. But at the end of August 2006, I had to go into the hospital to have a diabetic infected toe removed. If that wasn't bad enough, we were moving from our small apartment into a house just across the street at the same time. The day before I went into the house, my dear friend Helen helped me move the final items into the house. That night I tried to organize what I could to make the new house comfortable for Saddi while I was gone for the six days in the hospital, but even I was uncomfortable that first night. The next day I packed what I needed to take to the hospital, Saddi following me into every new room. We took a long walk and played in the nearby park until it was time for me to go. I sat her on the bed, holding her closely against me as I told her what would be happening. Helen would come by every morning and each evening to give her a walk, play with her and feed her. I told Saddi how very much I love and I would hurry home as soon as possible. Grabbing my bag, I kissed Saddi on the top of her head, picked up a picture of her to take to the hospital with me and told her to be good as I walked out the door. Walking down the street to catch the bus, I could hear Saddi through the open windows crying and I could feel my heart breaking. Every time Helen came over to the house, she would call me at the hospital so Saddi could hear my voice on the phone. Helen would talk to Saddi about my coming home soon. I knew Saddi was being taken very good care of by Helen, the only person in my life at that time I knew I could trust with Saddi. But during those six days, Saddi barely ate anything and I am sure spent much of her time alone looking out the window for my return.
On my fourth day at the hospital, Helen and her husband Pat and our friend Linda came to visit me, while bringing Saddi with them. All day I waited for that, telling all the nurses my little girl was coming to see me. I made arrangements early in the day for there to be a wheelchair ready for me and I talked to Saddi's picture, hoping she could hear me at the house, letting her know we'll see each other soon. When the time arrived, my wheelchair was nowhere to be found. Helen, Pat and Saddi waited downstairs, outside of the lobby, as I buzzed the nurses for my wheelchair. Finally it arrived and I nearly jumped out of my bed to get into it, but the chair had to hold my IV drip which was on a monitor to give me the medicine I needed from my surgery. It was all taking too long, wasting my time I could be with Saddi. Finally Linda was able to wheel my downstairs and of course she couldn't go fast enough for me. When we reached the lobby, a loud alarm went off on my monitor and we didn't know what to do. I was only about twenty feet from the lobby door and seeing my Saddi, I would have pulled the IV drip from my arm to get to her. No one was around to help us and Linda wanted to take me back upstairs to have it fixed but I said no, I had to see my Saddi. Finally a nurse coming on duty helped us and turned off the machine, saying ti should be okay for me not to receive the medicine for a short period of time. We were on our way, I used one hand to pushed the wheelchair faster and there she was just outside of the door. Helen saw me coming and I could see her telling Saddi I was coming, because Saddi's head moved quickly, looking everywhere to see me. When the lobby doors opened, Saddi saw me and jumped off the bench to come to me, but the wheelchair and my heavily wrapped foot scared her. I reached down to feel her fur and tears began to fill my eyes as Saddi rested her head on my arm. We went over to an area where we all could sit and while Helen, Pat and Linda talked, Saddi jumped up on the bench where I could hold her against my chest and we just held each other. Over and over, I told her how much I love and miss her as she licked my face. The others were there, but all that mattered was Saddi and I were together. She kept pressing her body closer against me and I covered her face with kisses. But the visit had to come to an end, so we slowly returned to the lobby door, Pat pushing the wheelchair as I held Saddi's leash while she walked along side us, always looking over at me. I gave Helen and Pat a hug, thanking them for bringing Saddi to see me. And I lifted Saddi's front paws onto my lap so I could hold and kiss her again, promising I would be home soon. As Linda wheeled me back into the hospital, Saddi stood at the door barking and I burst into tears. Back in my room I said goodbye to Linda and I just laid in my bed the entire night crying while looking at Saddi's pictures and smelling my hands because of her scent lingering on me. Two days later I was released from the hospital, Helen and Pat brought me home. As we opened the door, Saddi jumped off the sofa and ran to me. I can't remember ever seeing her tail wag so fast as she pushed her body against my leg, almost pushing me over. Helen and Pat soon left, Saddi and I sat on the sofa, her head on my leg, my hand rubbing her belly. For the next several days, if I went to the bathroom, or to the kitchen to get something to drink, Saddi was right behind me. She would not allow me out of her sight. Even as I stood there going to the bathroom, she stood outside the door watching me.
(excerpts from 'the TRUTH prevails 'by Ric Berrong to be published in 2010)
