A Dog Named Beautiful

Take a break from the American Shitshow.  This story should warm the hearts of every person reading it ….. and every person should read it!

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In September of 2016, Rob Kugler got some terrible news about his beloved dog, a black lab named Bella. The bone cancer that had taken her left front leg just a year earlier had spread to her lungs and mouth. Her already terminal illness was threatening to cut her short, eight-year-long life even shorter.

25SquintySmile

Bella en route to Red Feather Lakes, CO.

Kugler, a former Marine staff sergeant struggling with his own demons, refused to accept the death sentence and decided to take his canine best friend on an epic cross-country road trip.

For Kugler, the trip was about much more than Internet fame. When he saw photos of himself and Bella in some new city, he saw a version of himself he barely recognized anymore.

“My head is held higher than it’s been in a while,” he writes. “Bella’s face looks confident, and my face looks confident too — and it hasn’t looked that way for a long time.”

The invisible third passenger on their journey was Kugler’s deceased older brother Mike, a fellow Marine killed in Iraq in 2008 when his convoy hit a roadside bomb. He was Kugler’s hero, and the reason he enlisted at all. Even worse, he was stationed just 40 miles away from Kugler in Iraq, and Kugler had reason to believe his brother was en route to see him when he was killed.

The guilt, Kugler admits, has been crushing.

His long goodbye with Bella helped Kugler reconcile what he never had a chance to do with his brother. “Losing Mike changed my whole perspective,” he told The Post. “You realize how precious time is. Bella’s diagnosis was awful but it was also a gift. I wasn’t able to be there for Mike at the end, to tell him how much he mattered to me, but I could be there for Bella.”

 Image result for Bella and Kugler en route to Red Feather Lakes in Colorado.Bella poses next to her favorite graffiti in Detroit

It pushed him to do all the things he would’ve otherwise put off till tomorrow. “I learned to treat every day like it’s my last on Earth,” he says. Along his journey, he and Bella visited several retired military friends — many of whom, just like Kugler, have dog companions of their own. It didn’t surprise Kugler, who says vets find a connection with dogs they can’t get with other non-military civilians.

“You can have a relationship with another human being, but they still have their own lives,” he says. “Even in a marriage, they have something else in their world besides you. But with a dog, you’re it. You’re their everything. Their lives are all about being with you. Those are the kind of bonds you form when you’re in the military. And it’s not like that anywhere else.”

Bella died in October 2016, and remembering that day still makes Kugler emotional.

Image result for Bella and Kugler en route to Red Feather Lakes in Colorado.

Bella and Kugler take in the sunrise at a beach in North Carolina

“I don’t know if I can talk about this,” he says, his voice breaking. “She was wagging her tail right up until the end.”

Kugler remembers lying in the grass with Bella just days before she passed and daydreaming of Mike, in which he told his late brother that Bella would be joining him soon. “Mike … reassure(s) me he’ll watch her until I get there,” Kugler writes of his vivid dream. “I hand Mike Bella’s pink leash.”

Two and a half years later, Kugler still feels an absence. Not just of Bella, but the sense of purpose that came with their aimless road trip.

“One of the hardest parts of a trip like that is what to do next,” he told The Post. “It’s almost like being in the Marines and having this monumental, life-changing experience, and then coming home and everything just … stops.”

Today, he lives in Oregon and he still hasn’t figured out what he wants to do. He works odd jobs and donates his time to veteran causes while figuring out his next move.
He’s also met someone — a woman named Kristen who found him after following his and Bella’s journey on Instagram and who also traveled around the country with her own dying dog, a golden retriever named Franklin Waffles.

They’ve moved in together and have adopted two border-collie puppies, Max and Jasper, whom Kugler affectionately calls “my boys.”

But still, the guilt lingers. For his brother. For Bella. “I don’t want to wallow in the sorrow, which is so easy to do,” Kugler says. “It helps to have the boys running around the house. I feel more disconnected from the feeling that death is always around the corner. Now I’ve got the feeling of, oh my gosh, there’s so much youthful energy here. We’ve got years of this to look forward to.”

Looking back, he says his trip wasn’t about running away but “embracing the life we have left.”

“If we focus on fighting death, we can only lose,” he says. “If we focus on living life, we can only win.”

Image result for Bella and Kugler en route to Red Feather Lakes in Colorado.

SOURCE: NY Post by ERIC SPITZNAGEL

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Author: Stucky

I'm right, you're wrong. Deal with it.

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mistico
mistico
Mygirl...maybe

I pick up strays, generally because they’ve found me. The latest addition is a senior black lab whom I’ve named Bob, he just showed up on my doorstep and never left. His life prior to moving in with me is a mystery. I always have a small cadre of animals and generally when one passes, I grieve for awhile but since I have the other animals the grieving isn’t prolonged.
When I had just one dog, and her name was Sunshine, when she died I cried for days on end. I’d lost my best friend. I generally prefer dogs and other animals to people, less drama, less trauma and much more unconditional love.

ILuvCO2
ILuvCO2

“But with a dog, you’re it. You’re their everything. Their lives are all about being with you.”

Yup. Man I love my dogs. They are a true blessing.

Donkey Balls
Donkey Balls

I’ll comment Stucky.

Nice story. I love dogs. My wife and I have decided we will never be without a dog again. My goal is to retire to 40 acres with 5 dogs. All of them different types, colors and sizes.

Ottomatik
Ottomatik

Tough piece for the shit flinging monkeys to fling shit at….

TC
TC

Touching story; thanks for posting it Stuck. It’s easy to get caught up in darkness and despair, so it helps to have occasional reminders that there is some humanity left out there in the world; that our world is worth saving.

Undeniable
Undeniable

In utmost sincerity, Stuck, I thought the last line of the above article was beautiful.

Thanks for the post

starfcker
starfcker

There has been a stray dog roaming around my farm for the last 4 or 5 days. Big male cur looking thing. None of the other animals seem alarmed by him, so I started leaving a bucket of food out for him last night. He’s very barky, in a big dog kind of way, which could come in handy, and he’s very imposing looking, which also is nice. We will see how he does. If he keeps up the good behavior, he’s welcome to stay. He’s got the opportunity for a stray dog home run.

Peaceout
Peaceout

Kind of an emotional read for me, we lost our black lab great dane mix named Bella about three years ago. Eight years old and death for her came suddenly and without warning. Still have never really gotten over it. Misses Peaceout took it real hard and we have not gotten a new dog since. Not because we don’t love dogs, we do, it’s because of the pain of eventually losing them. After putting down many family dogs over the course of our lives we just don’t want to have to do that anymore. I suspect the time will come in the future when we happen to run across that special puppy, we will fall in love with it and have a dog back in our life again.

Mary Christine

She wagged her tail up till the end. Dogs will always do that if they possibly can. Great story, Stucky.

Ghost

A wonderful story. I have it on fair to good authority that all dogs do indeed go to heaven. And if one of them loved you like Bella loved this guy? You might get in too.

Oh, all horses go there too, so you know what that says about us cowgirls.

We have gotten the Alamo handoff shots, but I now have a sponsor for the Coonskin Chronicles, big lumberjack looking dude. You and the Misses are always welcome to come get some LDS Rice, Beans and a can of powdered Mormon milk. Morman dehydrated milk from cattle, you perv.

My SuperNovena Praying friend “doubled down” and committed us all to another 54 days. I am not part of the bead counting crew… I go in early, remind the Ghost why I’m there and apologize for the rosary bead crew coming in to repeat their prayers over and over and over and over.

But, I do it boldly. As I pretty much do all things.

And, I foisted off praying for you and Mrs. Freud onto THEM… They now include Nick from New Jersey when they do their half hour of prayers. I think Jesus laughs out loud each time they mention your name.

Well? He wept didn’t he? He must laugh too.

Hey, are you familiar with the Russian terminology “ukase?” I wonder how in the world an empire which stretched from the Bering Straits to Kingdom Come managed to make that work.

Ghost

By the way, you big lumberjack looking dude… this is kind of what I act like when I march boldly to that throne.

Then, I light the candles, the incense and put on a good “dirge” since the bead counters don’t do bootstomp.

and, the Russian Czars could issue a Ukase that made their imperial demand law without debate because of the Communist Bootstomp on the face of individual freedom. When a Czar stomped his foot, people got squished and didn’t get back up.

Putin has a bit of that in him, I think.

For some reason, the American people forget there was thousands and thousands and thousands of years of Empire before someone handed them self-reliance and liberty.

Oh, yeah… China. Many more thousands of years and they ventured out and decided they didn’t need that crap that bad. They came back and built a really big wall.

Anonymous
Anonymous

I lost my dog to bone cancer, she was 7. I have a few friends who also lost dogs quite early due to bone cancer, it is not normal. As far as I can tell, the one thing we all had in common was to use the prescription medications to kill ticks and fleas. This stuff is pure insecticides, you apply it to your dogs back with a few drops, it gets into the blood stream, and kills off fleas and ticks.

I never re-upped on another dog, too much heartbreakage when they go so so young.

My friends who also lost dogs early to bone cancer, will never ever use those prescription insecticides on their dogs, we concluded that this is too dangerous of a product, and shortens the life of your best friend.

KeyserSusie
KeyserSusie

I am fond of saying I was raised by German Shepards. My father imported them from Germany after the war for the purpose of using them for sentry duty. We had a succession of them. Some eventually given back to the AF, some taken from AF litters. One we gave to a Maine farmer when he broke his chain going after the mailman.

I have three dogs buried in my pet cemetary, two were ‘owned’ by my two sons as they grew up. A mutt redbone and a shepard lab mix. And my Vizsla, a natural born bird dog in the quail fields.

I have a toy Manchester Terrier now. A rescue from my son’s wife because she could not give the dog enough attention while working and attending college while he was deployed. The dog rescued me in many ways. It was during a bad time for me when I acquired little Roxy. I had been forced to retire along with a big plate of poop I had to eat at the time. Separated from my loving work family and the loss of my female significant-other weighed heavily on me. I could not sleep in my bed, preferring the couch. Being alone in my empty bed was a painful reminder of what I had lost and ghosts slept there. I struggled adjusting to unlimited leisure – on limited money. And both sons rotating back and forth to the ME. And then along came a little dog. I met most of my neighbors due to her roaming ways. And she was a chick magnet too when I took her places. Under tutelage from Cesar Milan and memories of the Gun Dog books of Richard Wolters Roxy morphed into a calm submissive companion, unless there is a raccoon, bear, squirrel or possum nearby. I have seen her run down a squirrel and put whiskers on it. But she lacks true killer instincts, feigning viciousness at their presence. And has chased bears out of my yard.

Now Roxy shares my bed and my car. I bet we have logged 10,000 miles together. Roxy drops everything if I say “Car”. She comes running at a full sprint to come get in. Even if she in chasing squirrels. When I pick up the car keys and turn off the boob tube she starts doing excited circles on the floor in anticipation of getting in the car.

A great pet travelogue movie is Harry and Tonto. Art Carney won an Academy Award for his portrayal of a cat owner who took to the road.

In the wake of Memorial Day it is nice to think about loyalty and animal companions.

Good topic Stuck.

Annie
Annie

My Great Pyrenees Bella will be 11 in July. The normal lifespan of a GP is 10. My Pyrenean Mastiff Daisy died last fall at 2 years old. The normal lifespan of a PM is 12 to 14 years. You get what time you get and it hurts regardless. Sometimes you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye much less take a trip around the country.

Uncola

Yo Stuck,

I had some time to kill this afternoon and, since I hadn’t written anything in a while, I assigned myself 1,000 words on the last sentence of your above post (but at 850+ words I didn’t quite make it). It was typed in the last 45 minutes without much going over – so it’s raw and soon to be lost like tears in the digital rain.

————–

If we focus on fighting death, we can only lose…

If we focus on living life, we can only win.

For many years, I’ve held on to the feeling of invincibility I’ve felt all of my life. Like the sense one has before a test when they just know they have a better-than-average chance of coming up aces; of being prepared to rise above the challenge and feeling lucky at the same time. Even when I went through a bout of depression and paralysis several years ago – it was, in part, because I was angry that the inevitable shit-show was taking too long get started and the waiting to die was killing me.

But now, this is the first year where I no longer feel invincible. For whatever reason, it seems like a turning point. Or, rather, the beginning of the descent down the other side of the mountain. I don’t sleep as soundly as I have in the past and, in the mornings my old injuries yield more aches and pains. My endurance is less, my hands can’t grip as tight as before, and my range of physical movement is increasingly restricted; or at least more than it once was. Additionally, my eyesight is diminished as are my senses of hearing and smell.

I’m older now and, of course, none of the above was a surprise as I’ve been watching them transpire for some time. It’s just now, this year, these have become absolutely undeniable on a daily basis and I’m okay with that because seasons change. That’s all. Even so, we can fight to delay the inevitable by eating the right foods, drinking lots of water (I drink distilled), and getting plenty of sunshine, fresh air, and exercise. Yet time waits on no one and our bodies wind down like clocks.

Inevitability is as inevitability does.

Over a rainy Memorial Day weekend, I watched a film on Netflix called “American Honey”. It was sort of an arthouse flick starring Shia LaBeouf and some unknown young actress in her first role. They traveled from town to town in a crew of tattooed and pierced young magazine salespeople drinking lots of booze, smoking weed, and having sex. In a way, it was an allegory of youth’s flame lighting up the random universe amidst making money and love. And isn’t that pretty much the story our lives?

What struck me about the film was the interwoven beauty and decay; and danger. Heartwarming human connections amidst cultural degradation. Stunning sunrises and sunsets over insects, filth, and muddy water. Is that not the very essence of life? Good and bad in varying measures and defined at any given time by what we see.

Take, for example, the politics of our time. Corruption and lies in the darkest of swamps versus courage and truth shining like campfires on the surrounding horizons.

For no apparent reason, I was thinking today of the author, intellectual, and conservative icon William F. Buckley Jr. Here was a guy who experienced the American dream. He lived large within a charmed life. Receiving an Ivy League education during the height of American prosperity and influence: A former army officer, sail-boating enthusiast, spy novelist, and 1991 recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom. I recall Rush Limbaugh once telling a story how his soda was spiked by Buckley before a television interview and, at the time, found myself smiling while I was driving as the tale was told.

I also saw an interview of Buckley in his later years, telling the interviewer that he had grown “weary of life” and that he welcomed death. I found that peculiar at the time, coming from one who was so blessed, had lived so large, and who had obtained such legacies and lasting influence.

It made me ask the question: “What’s the point?”

Perhaps it is this: We cannot know light without darkness, or experience the comforting warmth of the hearth, without a chill in the air. Nor can we fully appreciate day without night, each season without the others, or decency without corruption. What is life without death, joy without suffering, living without dying?

Our lives are defined by what we think we see and whether or not the perceived proverbial glass is half empty or half full. It depends upon where we are looking. And, perhaps, upon how full we are ourselves. There is a fullness of gratitude that derives from humility and an emptiness from pride. Pride wants to capture life, but life cannot be caught. Instead, our experience flies through us like lasers; and over us as rain.

Beauty is akin to a butterfly and when caught it wilts like a plucked flower in the sun. Neither can it be captured or made to subdue. A passive observer must consciousness be to know the breeze. And the quieter we become, the more we see. The winds of fear may be blowing through your lives and filling your eyes with dust. Perhaps we are riding the crest of waves, out of control, ‘til our very foundations are shaken in the core.

Don’t blink or you’ll miss it – the wind in our eyes.

Mygirl...maybe

There’s that little hyphen that seperates the dates on a tombstone, born-died. That little hyphen can encompass many, many years or a very short span of time. It is what we do with the time we are allotted that counts, sitting and watching a sunset or a thunderstorm is a perfect use of time as is working hard in the garden or doing whatever work is meaningful.

I used to get all maudlin about the passage of time, fretting over aging, not having the physicality to do what I once could do without a moments thought. Then I’d worry that I wasn’t doing enough with my time and did I make my goals, did I fulfil my potential and so on and blah, blah.

Death comes when it will if we don’t hasten the process, we can do what we can to delay the inevitable but we can’t stop it. I don’t spend my days fretting over my ultimate demise, I’m more composed these days, I now understand that the purpose of life is to live it…

Mistico (EC)
Mistico (EC)

Maudlin (and myriad) is a good word to stop using unless your name is HF.

Mygirl...maybe

Ah, did the big words scare you, little sissy?

BL
BL

Unc- Beautifully written comment. 🙂

ILuvCO2
ILuvCO2

Ya, Uncola, we all go through the shitshow and all get depressed. But you gotta remember, we all get beat down in then end. I can’t write as eloquently as you or HSF, but I DO understand it all. And sometimes you just gotta accept that it is what it is and enjoy life as it is now. To Fuck with the external bullshit. Let it go.

And that’s where dogs come in to make that happen. When I get dragged down by all the current doom porn, I look at my baby GSD, who loves me like no other maybe even my wife, and when she goes batshit crazy when I come home or out of the bedroom and goes nuts and runs in and out between my legs and loves and kisses me, I don’t care what the rest of the world is doing, I just thank the Lord for my dog and my wife and my family and enjoy the moment. While I can. Peace be with you brother.

Uncola

Thanks ILUVCO2 (and others above). I appreciated the feedback. So much so that I’ve decided to make it into a stand-alone piece with some minor revisions (improvements?). It may be a little self-indulgent and personal, but what the hell – we’re in a Fourth Turning and everything counts

RiNS

Thanks for that writing uncola
and thanks Stucky too,
ya big galoot!
I luv ya both
Really do…

Stucky as always
lets it all hang out
Heart on sleeve..
he stirs the pot again

Uncola for thanks as well
for writing about it.
Putting words and meaning
to my thoughts on this

Going to write yesterday
But I let Stucky down
I was MIA
The words just went away.

Not sure why it is
Like this of late.
Thoughts freeze
when put to stroke.

Could it be that
Gone is the feeling
of invincibility.

Maybe or maybe not

Happy instead
I watch the leaves
Spring from Trees.

Shimmering as they do
in the morning light
I counsel myself
With tea and toast
Now worry less
The reasons why

Enjoy the daze
with the birds
who flit and flitter
with seed provided
in those Maples
holding up
the bird feeder.

Prone yes to waking
in the middle of the night
wandering the house
and wondering why

Flustered in the dark
I stumble about
Fretting I do less
for much ado
of nothing in particular.

Could it be age
or rage?
I say neither…

Just the wear and tear
That comes from the drear.
Of patiently waiting
For that promised
crack up boom
Always a day away
from that promise
to appear.

Now finding solace
away from the light
Enjoying a life full
While living in the shade

Sorry about that rip above.
Got writers block now
And bad rhymes
is what I do
to calm my nerves
and cure the blues…

🙂

KeyserSusie
KeyserSusie
BL
BL

Nice story Stucky. At least it wasn’t about POTUS puppets and criminal banksters. Are you tired of it all as I am?

Big Dick
Big Dick

How lovely you named your dog shit show, in respect for the world around you!

~L
~L

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Anonymous
Anonymous

comment image

Mygirl...maybe

das rayciss

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