Sadie’s Story: By Dana & Eileen Green
Sadie, More Precious Than Money
By Dana and Eileen Green
One Good in the Whole World
She lived with us for thirteen days shy of her twelfth birthday. She was called a phantom, because of her coloring. I now can describe her as our “nine pounds of love”. Her backstory began four years before we found her. It’s a true story and goes like this.
After returning from our Italian holiday in December of 2015, I resumed my annual end of the year search for my elusive toy poodle. My request was usually made during Christmas time when my wife and I would discuss what gift each of us wanted that year. My annual request was now approaching its twenty-fifth year.
During a snowy evening as Eileen was watching one of Hallmark’s heart-tugging Christmas movies, I was seated on our leather couch riding my computer search engine. The search lugged me into the western mountains to a remote Maine kennel. As I looked over my umpteenth website, scanning photos and reading the biographies, I stumbled upon several ‘mom dogs’ who were being retired and were now available for immediate sale. Then I saw her picture. I announced to my wife that she needed to see this purebred, phantom toy poodle. I said with urgency in my voice, “We need to call first thing tomorrow morning, she won’t last long on the open market, she is special.”
Eileen asked, “What makes her so special?”
“She’s lived a life of a ‘breeding mom’ for the profitable sale of maltipoo pups and now she is being retired after four years,” I said.
“Why would they be retiring her so soon? Why now?”
“I don’t know but what I do know is that I have finally found a toy poodle close by that is in need of a home and I want to call tomorrow and find out if she is still available and for how much.”
After Eileen viewed the photo of our potential new boss dog, she reluctantly agreed that I could make the call, but with stipulations.
More Precious than Money
After placing the early morning call, I found out that the price on her “head” had been reduced to only $200 dollars. The price was based on us making a ‘today decision’ because the kennel needed the money to cover the vet bill for Sadie’s recent birthing process. We packed up and made the 140-mile trip to see her in person.
Upon arrival we found her to be 4 ½ pounds and shaved to the skin. Her body was light gray and brown with a dark, black-grayish head with dark gray ears and white legs. She was an undernourished and frail looking pup with sad, dark colored eyes. She looked nothing like the toy poodle on the kennel website. She did not give off any signs or show feelings of being a recent mother.
We found out that her recent litter of two puppies were stillborn (and they no longer wanted her services since she cost them lost revenue). Sadie looked at me with sad eyes, as I cuddled her in my lap. She gave Eileen and me all the indications of a dog needing care and most of all love, food and our help.
When Eileen asked me in a non-committal voice, “Dana, do you want to take Sadie home with us?” I replied to a firm “Yes.”
Lessons of a toy Dad and Mom
Once home, Sadie did not eat or drink for three days. Our fear was that she was either giving up on living or in mourning for her lost pups. We tried our best to show that we cared deeply about her. On her third day, I decided to start a daily routine of early morning and evening conversations. Poodles have a history of becoming good communicators.
After her morning yard walk and duties, I felt it was time to have a heart-to-heart talk with her as I drank my tea on our brown leather couch, and she laid on her new pink blanket. As I looked into her dark colored eyes I said, “Our life will be beautiful because you are beautiful.” Her reply was a gentle drop of her head against my leg as if to say, “I like it here.”
In the coming days she began to eat and drink. She preferred to sit between the left side of Eileen’s (mom’s) leg and the chair armrest. At night she’d sit with me (dad) on the leather couch. Her other ‘spot’ was right between our legs so she could be touching us both at the same time. It would become her safe space. She would lay this way in the coming years while we drove in the car, ate in restaurants or attended church services. No one even knew she was there. We often got looks of surprises when we would leave a restaurant and people realized that she had been right between us the whole time. Not a peek or a peep out of her while we ate our meals. All the while some two-year-old was causing a crisis at a nearby by table.
Sadie was remarkable and proud of her ‘public appearances’ and we were, as well. Oh, by the way, Sadie did always get some of her favorite Maine broiled haddock at Angler’s when we dined out. She loved her haddock in secret. No one knew of Sadie’s haddock preference, except the waitress. She liked the fish broiled in butter and white wine. “No seasoning, please”, as I ordered our joint meal. She always ate her fair share to no one’s prodding eyes. After her meal of fish, she would give us both a kiss of thanks when safely back in our car.
A life lesson I have learned is that dogs are better in public places than most kids during the terrible twos. Trust me after years of experience. Whenever a restaurant denied us admission even after she was named a certified therapy dog for our Alzheimer’s home visits with my mother and for my cancer treatment sessions, we both would say, “She is 100% percent better than the next two-year-old passing through your doors!”
Piano, Violin and Dancing
Sadie discovered that listening to Eileen’s weekly piano lesson with her adult student was ‘dog gone calming’. Sadie would recline sometimes belly-up in one of her in-home beds next to Eileen and within close proximity to her piano bench. She would sometimes be lifted into her carriage for a nap while listening to me playing classical or Christmas songs on the violin with Eileen assisting on the piano. Sadie enjoyed classical and Irish tunes, but Christmas melodies seemed to be her favorites.
Dancing was another of her morning rituals with us. After showering and dressing in our bedroom, Sadie would await our traditional morning waltz. Eileen and I would start our waltz to a Sinatra song, or a Kenny G saxophone jazz standard and Sadie would hop on her hind legs until we picked her up and placed her in between us. She snuggled in our arms as we three danced. Once the song concluded, we all got our share of kisses and not all kisses were the same. Sadie loved to dance.
Obtaining her Driver’s Permit
Sadie did like to drive cars. She got her learner’s permit on a Volkswagen convertible in 2016. On a fall afternoon, as we returned home from a coastal escape, Sadie took the wheel and drove us down our leaf covered, dirt driveway.
She used her paws to control her balance with a ‘tongue out’ grin, parked us in the garage. It would become her habit as we approached the driveway to climb in Eileen’s lap and plop her butt on her hip and assume the position of one paw on the wheel and the other on her shoulder. She would give the outside mirror a quick glance on instruction. Then return her gaze straight at the rising garage door and proceed to drive us to a smooth stop. She was unaware of any assistance of her co-pilot. Sadie would then eagerly await the opening of her car door in order to climb out and circumvent the car several times in pride of another safe arrival home.
“Nice job. Thanks for getting us home safely”, I would say with a smile. She would tilt her head with those smiling eyes and head to her rug covered ramp. She’d strutt up to the green porch door. We would find her there waiting for us. Never failed to make us grin. Home sweet home to Sadie’s one-acre yard and doghouse that she shared with us.
Carriage Queen
Sadie had the ‘sweetest carriage’ and was the envy of each dog we passed as she rode in luxury and style. She was so small we found walking with her was a dangerous undertaking on the sidewalks of Bar Harbor. Folks would step on her if we did not rescue her. We found a class ‘A’ dog carriage and ride online. She would lay down and sleep on her pink blanket. Then folks would ask us if they could see the baby? We got chuckles and belly laughs when they looked under the hood and found a toy poodle!
At the mall one winter Santa posed with her peaking out of her carriage. It made its way onto our annual Christmas card.
Fishing with Elephant Crackers
Sadie did enjoy our time on the boat chasing large-mouthed bass, white and yellow perch. Not so much the pickerel with their razor-sharp teeth! Once our 14-foot Aluma craft fishing boat broke away from the dock, Sadie immediately began seeking her animal cracker snacks from the cooler. She gave very little notice to the various fish that got landed, measured and released. Hardly gave a wink or a nod the day a pickerel planted five teeth on my right hand and drew blood. She just wanted more of those Barnum and Bailey elephant crackers.
Our journey would go like this. I always packed two tuna sandwiches, along with a Pepsi and some cookies for Eileen and me during our traditional two-hour fishing expeditions on Silver Lake (our retirement home location). Sadie got a care-package of bottled water and animal crackers. She would press her nose up against the cooler not longer than 2 to 3 minutes off the shore, indicating her desire to get to those cookies.
While Eileen and I would be happily catching our trolley of a dozen plus catch and release fish, Sadie would be chowing down her elephants, giraffes, lions and circus animals.
Sadie would nap in the shade at my feet or get aboard the passenger seat and face the blowing wind directly onto her nose and open mouth. She would sit on Eileen’s lap as we rode back to shore. Her hair would be bellowing in the wind with her tightly closed eyes and smiling face. It was heartwarming.
Not a Dog
Thinking back to early 2016, the first one-hundred days of that winter was snowy. Lots of snow. Forty inches during December 28 and March 12th. That winter was full of cold, dark mornings and moon lit evenings along with an abundance of fresh snowfall sticking to Sadie’s paws and belly hair. Eventually, we transitioned to April’s umbrella and doggie raincoat wear and then into Maine’s black fly season.
During my duties of being Ms. Sadie Green training instructor, I taught her to respond to my requests in English while Eileen was teaching her the Italian language. Sadie learned that the phrase “quick-quick” meant it was time for her to pee on cue. She also learned that “this way” signified the idea of staying away from danger or it was time to go inside. All the while, Eileen was teaching phases such as “Basta, basta”, Italian slang term for “enough, enough” to indicate no more food would be headed her way that was from our plates, and it was time to go to her dinner plate and eat her food. She also mastered the word “andiamo” which means “let’s go”. To Sadie it meant, ‘up the ramp and into the house’ with mom. As she learned the two languages of her mom and dad’s choosing, she was allowing us to become ‘her people’. She became our protector and dancing full time partner.
Counselor and Therapist
Sadie was my therapist. She would accompany me during my most most difficult days from 10/20/2020 to 2023. Eileen and I and Sadie (the wonder dog) got some tough news on in October of 2020. I was diagnosed with a very rare form of cancer (Waldenstrom disease). I had just completed a difficult sinus surgery that required the removal of two tumors. With my wife’s help and Sadie as my bedside counselor, I found a way out of my depression and onto the next phase of my treatment. Sadie trotted into the oncology clinic and chemotherapy sessions with a love that made everyone smile. She proudly sat on my lap during 16 different treatment sessions. With Eileen as my source of support and love and Sadie’s presence as my full-time therapist, I have made it through. God blessed me with a home full of love.
In the Eyes of Sadie
Sadie found kindness everywhere we went. Whenever we were in the grocery store, she drove the shopping cart surveilling the aisles in search of our ‘provisions and supplies’. She did a great public service in our community. You could count on it happening like clockwork.
We would be approached by elderly shoppers who’d asked, “Can I pet your beautiful dog?”
After the encounter ended, Eileen would ask, “Did she make you smile?”
“Yes,” would be the enthusiast response every time.
“She did her job,” Eileen would reply
Small Dog, Bigger Love
December 5, 2023, a day that seems to be re-lived with every sunrise and bedtime ritual and haunts me with the passing of our dear’h Sadie. I believe that nothing in my life up to that point could have made me feel more sadness and hopeless and horrible. Nothing compares to Sadie being gone. Not my brother dying as a young dad. My dad dying of cancer. Not even my mother’s Alzheimer’s disease robbing her children’s ability to speak to her as a mother prior to her death.
Sadie’s passing was a flat-out swift kick to my stomach. I felt sick and overwhelmed with grief. Eileen, dear Sadie’s mom, was also stuck with the realization that her most loving companion was gone. We held each other for days on end and cried in each other arms over the loss of our dear Sadie.
We both tried to contain and hide our aching hearts from our family and friends the best we could. I wondered if we would ever feel normal again. We wanted her back in our home, but that day would never come. I remember reading in a book once that grief is the truest evidence of your love. We are most grateful to have loved Sadie and to have had her love.
I now know the real truth of our dear’h Sadie is that we didn’t rescue her, she rescued us. We can look forward to the next time she licks our faces and kisses us, and we dance together again.
Until we meet again
Sometimes I just cry, and the reason why is becoming clearer as time passes without Sadie. I close my eyes in the darkness at night to recite the ‘Lord’s Prayer and The Hail Mary’ which always end with a new pillow of tears. I see her sitting in Heaven with her puppies rubbing up against her belly. Her eyes say, “Dad and Mom, I am waiting for you.” Sadie, we dream of being with you again. I know ‘mom’ does, even though she keeps it all inside. The reason I cry is because I know I have to wait to be with you. I will keep Sadie’s star a glow each night for two hours in loving memory of you (Sadie’s star is on our garage and brightens the night from 8 to 10 p.m.). Sadie made me believe you can always find joy, kindness and love in the eyes of your dog.
Grief has the tendency to hold on to me because I miss you in my dreams, sitting on the couch discussing our daily lives, watching you eat homemade Terracina meatballs, doing your 360 degree dances with mom, prancing down the hallway in joy, racing and playing hide and seek, and watching you sleep. Until we meet again know how much we loved having you in our lives. Signed: Dad and Mom. PS: See you in Heaven.
PSS: Next Dog Up, Gracie
Gracie arrived right on cue on February 5, 2024. Two months after losing Sadie. The loss of Sadie remains. On some days it is as heavy as a fully loaded logging truck stuck in the mud. Grace was a blessed toy poodle puppy who needed us as much as we needed her. She was the runt of her mom’s litter and passed over by all buyers. Her value to her owners dropped in an effort to find a buyer. Eileen read a piece about her online in Uncle Henry’s. Eileen said half-heartedly to me on a sleepy, January morning, “Dana, you need to wake up. Read this. If you want another dog, this might be your dog.”
She is Grace to me and Gracie to Eileen. She has taken over our house and made it her home. She has already brought joy and smiles and even laughter back to our lives. I have often read you either need to wait or jump right back in when you lose your dog. All we can imagine, as we both have asked Sadie in trying moments of Gracie’s puppyhood is, “Sadie, are you there inside of Gracie trying to shine through?”
Amazing Grace. I had to say it. Is now our little piece of dog-gone-magic.