Time for Tears

Anne with an E

I'm having a hard time dealing with my emotions in this hard time of Covid-19.

It is likely that my children and grandchildren will not be able to travel from Texas for a visit this summer. My life is out of my control. I am being kept away from my friends. No in-person exercise classes. No going to coffee shops or the library or museums or movie theaters.

Standard television fare other than the news has not been my cup of tea for many years. And now even the news is more upsetting than regular television. The local news, the national news, the BBC world news just make me angry or scared or so sad I don't think I can stand it. Not even PBS's News Hour with Jeremy Brown covering the Arts and Culture from his home salves my heart for long.

Thank goodness for Netflix, Brit Box, Amazon Prime, MHz, and TED.com. I can watch what I need and what I want, when I want. With my breakfast to start my day. Late at night if I can't sleep. Any time when I can't be doing what it is I would rather be doing.

These online television options offer all kinds of escapism, abundant opportunities for enlightenment, humor both sharp and gentle, and inspiration.

Oddly enough the show that is most effective at helping me deal with the heavy sadness, the sorrow I feel for the whole world, is the Canadian Broadcasting Company's Anne with an E. It's based on the novel Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery, published in 1908.



"Since its publication, Anne of Green Gables has been translated into at least 36 languages and has sold more than 50 million copies, making it one of the best selling books worldwide. The first in an anthology series, Montgomery wrote numerous sequels, and since her death, another sequel has been published, as well as an authorized prequel. The original book is taught to students around the world." -- Wikipedia

And I've never read any of these books. How did I miss them? Oh, well. I'm a slow reader. I didn't read a Bobbsey Twins book until I was a Junior in High School or a Laura Ingalls Wilder Little House book until my daughter was reading them. But I did read all of  Louisa May Alcott's novels. That counts, right?!





I've also not watched any other television or movie productions of the Anne of Green Gables stories. To be honest, I thought they would be children's stories. Treacle and pablum.


The Canadian television series Anne with an E, created by Moira Walley-Beckett, must be an adaptation rather than a faithful rendering of the books. I can't imagine that a writer who wrote during the early 20th Century would be so progressive in their thinking. The TV series deals with the very harsh realities of the late 19th Century that an orphan most certainly must have dealt with -- bullying and bigotry against all and sundry who were somehow different from the dominant white, English-speaking, Canadian culture. (An awakening for me. I grew up believing those attitudes unique to my Oklahoma -- here meaning "Southern" -- roots.) And the equally harsh realities of life and death due to the limitations of medical science at that time.




Anne was an orphan, farmed out to whatever family would take her in. She was treated like a servant or worse until she was sent to the elderly Cuthbert siblings, Marilla and Matthew, played by Geraldine James and R.H. Thomson. Anne, played by Amybeth McNulty, was sent to the Cuthberts in error. They had requested a boy whom they expected to help them work the farm.




Marilla and Matthew have grown old and sterile, untouched by the world beyond Prince Edward Island, the culture into which they were born. Anne, with her life-saving imaginary world, turns their prim and proper life upside down. Indeed, the whole community of Avonlea's.

Life for these characters is hard. Some people do mean, unacceptable things to them. Sometimes their own attitudes cause them great pain. Some of them never change.  People die. A baby is born. Some of the people do change.  And I cry.

But the sorrows and joys are not gratuitous or unrealistic. Somehow, shedding tears for these characters' sorrows and joys in their very harsh time is cathartic for me living in our own very harsh time.

Whether for their sorrows or joys, or for ours, it is a time for tears and tears help.

Goodbye Gracie Lu

Scott and Gracie Lu

Today I helped euthanize my daughter dog Gracie Lu.

She was.

She was beautiful and enthusiastic. She was fierce and loving. She was a lap dog and an indomitable hiker. She was almost four and a half years old.

She hunted mice and birds and snakes. Indeed she kept bigger game out of our backyard. Mule deer wonder through our neighborhood, but they knew not to scale our fence while she stood guard. And Bentley, our neighbor’s senior dog might outweigh her two to one, but I don’t think he ever won the through-fence verbal war between them.

Gracie came to live with us almost three years ago. She moved from Florida to Colorado following a young man to his new job. His work didn’t allow enough time for him to spend with Gracie so he put her up for adoption on the Dachshund Rescue website.

Our Bassett Hound Bess and our Dachshund Oscar were very senior and we needed new blood for the pack. I saw Gracie the first day she was on the website. I’m an early riser so I had to wait more than three hours to call the number. I wanted to make a good impression and everyone should be up and about by 8:30 even on a weekend. He graciously agreed to bring her to our home so we could see how she would fit.

He brought her in and put her on the floor. Bess and Oscar ran to see the strange dog. Neither growled or threatened, but she was terrified and leaped into my husband’s arms. Not the young man’s but Scott’s.

She was a full-size, smooth-coated, dapple Dachshund, about a year and a half old. And her name was Gracie Lu. Our human daughter’s name is Grace and my favorite restaurant is Lucille’s Creole Café. And she was in my husband’s arms. Of course she fit. She fit very well indeed.

Bess because of her seniority and innate good sense was the alpha dog. Oscar was Oscar. He didn’t care who was top dog, he was going to do his own thing anyway. (I think he may have been a cat in a previous life.) And Gracie Lu was too unsure of herself to aspire to high place. Her integration into the pack was virtually seamless.

A few months later we put Oscar down. He was fourteen years old.  Then it was just Bess and Gracie until we let Bess go. She was over fifteen. With her exuberance, Gracie inspired Bess to youthful entertainments until the end.

Gracie was down to just humans in her pack. She was not unhappy being the only dog. But we needed a new dog for her to train up. Last month a new dog came to live with us. You can read about her. Just click on  Maggie May.  

From that first leap into Scott’s arms Gracie Lu never hesitated to jump – onto our bed, off of our bed, down steps into the basement (for which she was chastised) and back up again. We have a ramp down from the back door to the patio originally installed for my father’s use, then used by Bess. Gracie leaped onto and off of it from whatever angle she might come to it.

My first Dachshund Sebastian had Intervertebral Disc Disease so we knew what might happen, but some Dachshunds do not develop that problem. Oscar didn't. And really there’s no way to prevent its development or, for that matter, Gracie’s jumping.

Sebastian had Laser Disc Ablation at Oklahoma State University’s Veterinary Teaching Hospital (my husband’s Alma Mater) Back then it was a new treatment. Sebastian did reasonably well with only minor episodes which could be treated with prednisone and cage rest. Until he did not and had to be put down.

Two weeks ago Gracie suddenly presented with pain. She didn’t try to jump onto the bed. But she still walked, indeed ran, normally. She continued to eat well, drink well, and be interested. We took her to the vet and she put Gracie on pred and cage rest. At first it seemed to be working. Then yesterday Gracie began to have problems walking. And sitting. She couldn’t squat properly to urinate.

Scott and I talked about it. Surgery was still a possibility, but her future would include more episodes of varying degrees of severity until at last nothing restorative could be done.

We decided that if she did not improve with the conservative treatment we would not put her through the surgery.

This morning she could not stand. She could still wag her tail a bit. And she did. She had a good breakfast.

My husband had eye surgery yesterday and couldn’t go with us, but he called Wheat Ridge Animal Hospital and explained what was going on. He’s a vet so he was able to talk to them doc to doc. He carried her out to the car in her crate and told her goodbye.

They were expecting us at the veterinary hospital and took us right in. They immediately took her to the back. While they put the catheter in place, I filled out the necessary papers. They were so sweet to me. But I assured them that I understood what we were doing, that I wanted to hold her while they euthanized her, and that I appreciated them and what they were doing for us.

And I told them that I was only sorry that this same service could not legally be provided to humans when it was time. I meant that and I mean that.

Having dogs and cats means saying goodbye. Our lifespans just do not match. And we love them just as much as we love our human family members. I am okay with this. I am more than okay. I celebrate the animals I’ve loved and lost. I celebrate the people I’ve loved and lost.

Losing loved ones after sharing however long we have together – if they know we loved them and we know they loved us – it is the purest form of sorrow – no darkness – only light. And tears.