I don't know where to start. More to the point, I don't want to do this post. You see, I am grieving. Grieving deeply for my precious Buntah who left us on the first of January. To open my mouth, even if it is only typing, is to open the spillway from whence my tears and whole heart may flow, and I might never get them back again. Actually I'm not worried about tears or if I'll have anymore, because it seems, I have a never ending supply. My heart is what I'm worried about. Is it gone? No. But it is shattered and no longer whole. It continues to beat, but I can barely breathe. If you don't know this about me so far, know it now. When I love, I love "all in". And I LOVED BUNTAH WITH ALL MY HEART. And missing her hurts clear to my bones and back. I tried so hard to save her, but in the end, I just couldn't. Logically, my brain knows I did all I could and then some. Logically, my brain knows there was something wrong with her that couldn't be fixed (her doctor confirms that). But the problem for me, is that I don't live in logic. I live in my heart, and my heart thinks that love alone should have been enough to save her.
I have this driving need to pay tribute to her, but I can't find words, or symbols or gestures enough to fully honor what she meant to me and who she was to me. She came into my life with all that she was and became more than she was to begin with. She was my miracle. I watched a magical process unfold with her that I was blessed to be a part of it.
Buntah wasn't born a domesticated being, she was born and survived in the wild until the night I found her. I'm not one that believes in plucking creatures from the wild just "cuz I wanna". But I will, and have on more than one occasion rescued an animal in distress. Buntah was in dire circumstances the night I found her. We brought her in to save her life with the intent to release her somewhere safe. After ten days of exploring options, and finally being told that her life would most likely end in the jaws of a snake somewhere - in a pet store or in the wild, we decided to keep her. By then we had fallen in love with her and named her. I made her a promise that night; I promised her I would learn all that I could about caring for her needs, and I promised her I would do my best to give her a happy home. I was true to my word.
But Buntah, Buntah was the miracle. Once she realized she was being cared for and no longer had to fear for her safety or forage for her own food, she relaxed into our world and an amazing person emerged. She was curious, had clear preferences and desires, and to our delight, she realized she liked being a "PEOPLE". She liked snuggling, she loved being read and sung to, she loved her massages, and she loved music. Her main house (for awhile she had two) was in the dining room near the big computer. When either Piper or I were using it, Buntah would come to the edge of her house and watch what was on the screen. She was very, very good at letting us know what was on her mind. She begged to be held and to come interact with us. She had moods, she had attitude, she had determination and spunk. She had an undeniable way of letting us know if and when we had displeased her, she actually pouted!! When we talked to her she actually listened - unless of course she wasn't in the mood. In those instances she would simply turn her back on you and walk away. She even sneezed and yawned, the tiniest sneezes and yawns you can ever imagine. Who knew toads did these things? I certainly didn't until she came along. When she was being held, if we tried to put her down before she was ready, she wrapped her little arms around our hand and held on tight just like any child would do, or if she couldn't get a good grip, she'd scramble to stay. I'm telling you, she was a pocket sized little person, except that her personality was huge. It would take chapters of writing to try and tell all that she was. I know there is no way I can make you understand what she mean t to me, and how deeply she affected me. There is no way I can verbalize the depths of my sorrow at losing her. She was a remarkable little being and my world is darkened without her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
How did she go? In Piper's loving arms. I was on the other side of the country at the time. Why wasn't I here with her? Because someone else I loved and cherished passed away unexpectedly just days before Christmas. The service for my friend was on Dec. 31st. I was only going to be gone for a few days. By mid-December, Buntah had reached a plateau, she wasn't getting worse and was still very much in there, interactive and engaging. I had created and implemented a daily physical therapy protocol for Buntha that she'd been responding well to. I taught Piper the protocol, and I really felt Buntah would still be alive when I returned. Not so. She passed away just hours before I was to board a flight for home. Poor Piper had to take immediate care of her body. We had Buntah cremated, a letter I wrote to her three days after her passing explains why. The letter is in my COLLECTIONS section of this site. This link, "Dearest Buntah", should take you to it if you'd like to read it.
It's nearly 2:00 a.m., I am exhausted now. No, I haven't decided yet what to do with Buntah's blog. It's taken all I've got just to get to this point, making this announcement. I have a long way to go to work through this grieving process. My energies and heart are greatly diminished.
How could I not miss this face?!!!
I have this driving need to pay tribute to her, but I can't find words, or symbols or gestures enough to fully honor what she meant to me and who she was to me. She came into my life with all that she was and became more than she was to begin with. She was my miracle. I watched a magical process unfold with her that I was blessed to be a part of it.
Buntah wasn't born a domesticated being, she was born and survived in the wild until the night I found her. I'm not one that believes in plucking creatures from the wild just "cuz I wanna". But I will, and have on more than one occasion rescued an animal in distress. Buntah was in dire circumstances the night I found her. We brought her in to save her life with the intent to release her somewhere safe. After ten days of exploring options, and finally being told that her life would most likely end in the jaws of a snake somewhere - in a pet store or in the wild, we decided to keep her. By then we had fallen in love with her and named her. I made her a promise that night; I promised her I would learn all that I could about caring for her needs, and I promised her I would do my best to give her a happy home. I was true to my word.
But Buntah, Buntah was the miracle. Once she realized she was being cared for and no longer had to fear for her safety or forage for her own food, she relaxed into our world and an amazing person emerged. She was curious, had clear preferences and desires, and to our delight, she realized she liked being a "PEOPLE". She liked snuggling, she loved being read and sung to, she loved her massages, and she loved music. Her main house (for awhile she had two) was in the dining room near the big computer. When either Piper or I were using it, Buntah would come to the edge of her house and watch what was on the screen. She was very, very good at letting us know what was on her mind. She begged to be held and to come interact with us. She had moods, she had attitude, she had determination and spunk. She had an undeniable way of letting us know if and when we had displeased her, she actually pouted!! When we talked to her she actually listened - unless of course she wasn't in the mood. In those instances she would simply turn her back on you and walk away. She even sneezed and yawned, the tiniest sneezes and yawns you can ever imagine. Who knew toads did these things? I certainly didn't until she came along. When she was being held, if we tried to put her down before she was ready, she wrapped her little arms around our hand and held on tight just like any child would do, or if she couldn't get a good grip, she'd scramble to stay. I'm telling you, she was a pocket sized little person, except that her personality was huge. It would take chapters of writing to try and tell all that she was. I know there is no way I can make you understand what she mean t to me, and how deeply she affected me. There is no way I can verbalize the depths of my sorrow at losing her. She was a remarkable little being and my world is darkened without her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
How did she go? In Piper's loving arms. I was on the other side of the country at the time. Why wasn't I here with her? Because someone else I loved and cherished passed away unexpectedly just days before Christmas. The service for my friend was on Dec. 31st. I was only going to be gone for a few days. By mid-December, Buntah had reached a plateau, she wasn't getting worse and was still very much in there, interactive and engaging. I had created and implemented a daily physical therapy protocol for Buntha that she'd been responding well to. I taught Piper the protocol, and I really felt Buntah would still be alive when I returned. Not so. She passed away just hours before I was to board a flight for home. Poor Piper had to take immediate care of her body. We had Buntah cremated, a letter I wrote to her three days after her passing explains why. The letter is in my COLLECTIONS section of this site. This link, "Dearest Buntah", should take you to it if you'd like to read it.
It's nearly 2:00 a.m., I am exhausted now. No, I haven't decided yet what to do with Buntah's blog. It's taken all I've got just to get to this point, making this announcement. I have a long way to go to work through this grieving process. My energies and heart are greatly diminished.
How could I not miss this face?!!!
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