I am a Westie person. I love the breed, but I also love Scotties, and ALWAYS have to have one among my Westies.  When Hanna first came to live with us, Brin, my first Scottie, was still with us.  I had gotten two more Westies for Brin for company as she continued to mourn the death of her beloved friend Shanna (my first Westie), a few months previous.  While I didn’t think I could bear another loss in the future, I felt for Brin who was so lonely.  Little did I know that Brin would leave us very soon, after Hanna and two year old Darby (Westie) came to live with us.  Hanna so much wanted to be with Brin, and would often just lie beside her.  When Brin passed, the loss was great especially for me, but now I had a puppy and an adult who had seen little of the outside world, so lots of fun here!  Darby took Hanna under paw and taught her how to play.  Hanna taught Darby about housetraining. 

Without Brin,I missed having a Scottie. After much searching, Fallon came to us from the West Coast.  She too was a love!  Hanna was approximately one and half when Fallon joined our family and they became immediate friends and playmates.  But a few short years later, Fallon passed away, leaving us all in shock.  I could not bear to think of another Scottie for some time, but in 2001 Trevar, a handsome gentleman, came to live with us.  Hanna, however, never really took to him.  Not that she was mean, just indifferent.  Perhaps I’m humanizing (but Hanna was as close to human as a dog could get), it seemed she ignored him because he WASN’T Fallon.  As they both matured, they fell into a nice order, and would often lay side by side, or sometimes Trevar would lay on top of Hanna.  No problem, as long as he didn’t squish her, she said it was “okay.”  She would often look for him if he couldn’t be seen, and some times she would go and “get him” or Darby, or my husband if asked.  She once told me, “I like ‘im, but I just don’t want to play with him.”

Hanna came to me of course as a puppy, and she was accompanied by almost two year old Darby at tht time.  Both were purchased from the same kennel.  Darby was like a mother to Hanna.  She taught her to play, and also taught her manners.  Hanna loved Darby and would always want to be close to her.  They spent many hours wrestling and chasing each other.  As time passed and they both matured, their play times lessened, but they still looked for one another, and liked to sleep together.  We had other rescues come and go, and Darby and Hanna always adjusted to new visitors well.

Hanna was ten when Rori came to live with us.  All three dogs happily greeted this new puppy (Rori) upon her arrival home.  However, little miss snippy (Rori), decided to growl at all of them.  Now there has always been an unspoken but well known rule in our terrier filled house, no fighting and no even thinking about it!  Well, the pack all turned away in disgust, Hanna in particular was indignant about Rori’s insult.  It took some time, and Hanna teaching Rori the rules, but eventually all settled in.  Hanna and Rori actually began playing together, although Rori still remains the most temperamental of the dogs, but everyone knew Hanna was the ruler.  She was subtle in her ruling, she never bit, but she would just shoot a subtle glance and all would fall into place.  Ever so cool!

The Missing Piece

The other day I was putting together a computer table.  While this is not something new for me (I like putting things together), I struggled initially with the placement of pieces.  I noticed that I was extremely careful as I pulled the heavy pieces from the box, always looking before laying them on the floor.  As I sat on the floor amidst the panels, screws, and flurry of wrapping paper, I scanned the mass looking for something, but what.  This feeling of missing something continued for some time.  Occasionally a screw or a bolt would disappear from site momentarily only to reappear when I moved a board or paper.  But something gnawed at me, something was missing.

I automatically turned left to grab a board and it suddenly hit me.  Where were the dogs?  I scanned the room. Trevar was sleeping on his pillow in our bed, Rori was catching z’s under the bed, and Darby was snoozing away in the crate. And then like an emotional ton of bricks smashing, the emotions came crashing in.  It was Hanna-Hanna was the missing piece.

Hanna was always right with me, especially when we were working on a project.  She loved to check out each piece as it exited the box. She often held the instructions with her paw or tushie (she frequently liked to sit on the paper).  Hanna noticed and “counted” each screw in the bag (not really counted) and nudged my arm if time became too long from my previous request for her opinion.   She helped me complete all projects, and even tolerated my some time verbal spews of frustration.  Once the project was complete, Hanna would inspect it and certify it with a look up at me and a tail wag.  She always appreciated my talents and her direction.  We were a great team and I could always count on her to help me with any project.

It now is a bit lonely when I’m completing a project.  I don’t have to worry about accidentally stepping on toes or worse, placing a board on little paws.  I don’t have anyone to hold the directions, or inspect each piece for quality.  I have no one nudging me waiting for an acknowledgement and appreciation of their help.  There is no one to inspect the completed project and give me a “paws up.”  But worst of all…my friend, my avid helper, my constant companion…is no longer here to help me.  Hanna is the missing piece.