Pugfest, Day 1

Thursday, May 14, about 7:50 a.m. as we are rolling out of town:

Me: “Guys, I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m trying to be a better person.”

Someone in the van, yelling loudly: “It’s about time!”

😂

Well played. 😂😂

Top 5 horror stories

Here’s my Top 5 Horror Stories (PTSD edition)

- On telling a relative of my PTSD diagnosis: “You need to work on your hateful attitude.” Thanks for your love and support.

- “The things you say happened, did they actually happen or did they just happen in your head?” Thanks for the question. The events actually happened. 

- “You need to just get over it.” Thanks. I hadn’t thought of that. 

- Two weeks after my traumatic event: “You must feel better now, right?” No. No I don’t. Also this is kind of gaslighty and totally creepy.

- “Well that happened to me and I don’t have PTSD.” Cool. Congrats. 

Bonus one: “This is all just in your head.” Yeah, I’m aware of that. Thanks for the info. 👍

Another bonus: “Bitch. You need therapy.” Thanks. I’ve gone to therapy for years. Also this is abuse. 

Most of it you learn with age

Her hair was blonde and curly and she looked absolutely adorable.

Space was tight in the crowed arena, and when she sat down she got my attention by tapping my shoulder. 

“We’re going to have extra space,” she said. “I have both these seats and the other person didn’t come.”

I didn’t ask for more information, but I put the pieces together the best I could. 

Why is this cute girl alone? And what jerk decided they had something better to do that night?

I asked her where she was from, and said a small town a ways away.

My dad grew up in that town.

I asked her if she’d ever been to a concert alone, and she said no. She added that yesterday was her birthday and she didn’t want to come alone, but decided to drive a few hours to Kansas City as a birthday treat to herself.

Oh, girl. I’ve been where you are, I thought. I’ve bought concert tickets for a man who decided someone else was better a time or two in my life.

I told her the plus side of doing things solo is that no man is beside you bitching the entire time. 

She agreed and smiled. Plus, when she wakes up tomorrow she can do anything she wants! She doesn’t have to take anybody else’s wants into consideration.

During the concert she looked at her phone a lot and texted a lot.

I kept my mouth shut, but I thought girl, stop chasing someone who doesn’t want you. Get rid of him and find someone better (or find yourself).

After the concert we said our goodbyes. “Thanks for talking to me. Not everyone would have done that.”

You’re welcome, beautiful girl. 

What I didn’t tell her is that I once had Eric Church concert tickets, and I planned to go with a man who I literally begged to stop cheating on me. 

Literally, I begged him to stop. He didn’t.

Moral of the story: Do things alone. And always, always, always go to the concert.

Those I’ve Loved

There’s a song that always hits me in the emotions at concerts. As soon as I hear the first few chords, I know the tears are going to come soon.

That song is Those I’ve Loved. 

The song has the word ‘Denver’ in it, so I expect to hear it Colorado. I was not emotionally prepared to hear it in St. Louis. It punched me in the feelings. 

The song goes ‘I wouldn’t be who I am today if not for those I’ve loved along the way.’

At the concert, I started bawling. I don’t cry much anymore, if ever. For the past couple of years, I’ve struggled so much with anxiety, depression and PTSD and the crying factory has closed since then.

On Saturday night, I thought about the guy who I thought was going to propose on Christmas Eve one year. We danced and cooked in my kitchen and drank wine. I thought buddy, this moment is perfect and you are perfect and I hope that ring in your pocket is perfect, too.

We broke up two days later.

I thought about the guy who married the girl he cheated on me with. And then I thought about the guy whose family was fantastic but we just weren’t right for each other.

Part of the song: “I don’t regret the day that she became one of those I’ve loved along the way.”

And now I’m crying. 

When I hear that song I think about people I’ve fought with and fired from my life. I think about my family, people who used to be friends and a ton of other people, too.

I didn’t even try to wipe the tears away at the concert. Emotions, feelings and grief are weird and they have a way of showing up during happy moments sometimes. 

So one February night in St. Louis, I just let the tears fall. Getting emotions out, finally, is healthy. 

I think. 

The song: “She was my best friend, and it broke my heart the day that she became one of those I’ve loved along the way.”

I’m going to go cry now. 

Chiefy.

I haven’t posted on this here blog for a long time.

One day I might tell that story. Until then, I want to talk about my boy dog, Chief, aka Chiefy, aka Chiefo or sometimes butthole or sometimes something worse.

I’ve had Chiefy almost two years. It is not an understatement to say that he is the boy Pug of my dreams. 

He’s a good man, a handsome man, a good kisser and a good listener. He likes belly rubs, supper time, bones and chewies, his toy cupcakes and he has a special toy monkey that he humps every night before bed.

Weird? Yeah. But you get used to a Pug humping his monkey eventually. 

After I lost Penny I wasn’t sure if I would survive without her. I never imagined life without her. And then I met Chief, our souls vibed and he walked into my life 1.5 weeks after I put my soul dog down.

My favorite thing about him is what he did for his older sister Pickles. Chief taught Pickles how to be a Pug. He taught her how to dog.

For the first six months Pickles ignored her brother and pretended like he didn’t exist. But she watched everything he did and mimicked his behavior.

Chief is on the couch? Pickles is on the couch. Chief got into something he shouldn’t have? Pickles is there beside him.

Chief barks? Pickles barks.

For most of Pickles’ life, she was raised in my home, which was kind of like a senior citizen retirement home for Pugs. Pickles hung out with her two besties, and they didn’t do a whole lot in their elder years. 

Pickles grieved Penny hard. It was heartbreaking to see.

But then a giant monkey-humping boy walked into our lives.

Chief fixed his sister’s broken heart. Mine, too. 

Thanks for adopting us buddy. We love our big linebacker boy. 😍

Life lately.

January 2026 was exactly 732 days long. I had surgery, was scared out of my mind for it, and then spent a couple of weeks only able to use one hand. 

And then came a sweet reprieve - a new month for a new start and new beginnings.

On the first day of February, I heard a sound. What the hell?

I took the photo below from my balcony, after I watched the driver crawl out of the car window and walk away barefoot.

My neighbor cut her seatbelt with scissors I tossed down to him. My neighbor also asked me for paper towels, but I don’t buy those so I tossed him a roll of toilet paper. 

Also, I called 911 right away.

Happy February to you and yours from me and mine. Life is a lot like a box of chocolates and sometimes you look out your window to a luxury car upside down. 

Car playlist

If you can’t go from Shaggy to Chris LeDoux, get out of my car.

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time (in February)

I want to take a moment and talk about a trip that I took to Tulsa in December to see my favorite band of all time.

First, I should point that I always give myself a Christmas present every year. Once upon a time a few years ago, I dated a guy who gave his mom a Christmas present but not me.

(I know how to pick them.)

Since then, I decided to stop expecting 'me' from other people and to just buy myself whatever I want for Christmas. 

So in December, I went to two Hanson concerts at Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa. They were both Christmas shows, which was different. I was expecting some regular music thrown in there, but they kept to the script and only played Christmas music.

It was fantastic. 

On Friday night I had to work late, and I left town super late, and when I was driving to Tulsa I thought about just skipping the first concert and going to bed. 

I didn't though. I parked in downtown Tulsa, walked a couple blocks, showed one security guard my ticket, walked in the building and BAM - there's Hanson!

Guys, there's a hill that I'll die on in life. Bands perform better in their hometown. 

For Hanson, that's Tulsa. Which is sweet, because that's just down the road from me in Kansas. You will never see a better show than Hanson at Cain's. It's the best thing on planet Earth. 

On Friday night, I missed about half of the concert. I'd like to point out that I'm an OG Fanson (original fan) and there was a time when I used to go hours early to stand in the pit line for a good spot. 

Twenty years ago, I would not have missed a Hanson concert if my life depended on it. Well, it turns out we're all 20 years older and sometimes you have to keep a roof over your head. 

Whatevs. 

On Friday night I was honestly glad to be in the same room as them. That's all I really want from concerts. I don't need front row anymore and I don't need meet and greets. 

I consider myself blessed to be in the same room as the people singing to me. 

Anyway, I can't describe how fantastic they were. They absolutely killed it in a way that I cannot describe in words. 

Boys, I'll come back to Tulsa whenever you'll have me.

--

On Saturday, I fan girled a little harder and waited in line before the show started. The comments the women were making around me were hilarious. 

Please remember that we all became huge fans of his band when we were 13 years old. 

The comments: "Guys, we've been doing this at the same venue for 25 years."

"Does anyone have Tylenol?"

"How long will they play? What time can we go to bed tonight?"

:)

I'm not going to lie here, I'm really only there to see Taylor. My Christmas present to myself was to gawk at Taylor Hanson for two nights in a row. 

But what I wasn't expecting was for Isaac to steal the show. 

Maybe I just have a thing for guitar players now. He was absolutely incredible and made his brothers look like that one dish at Christmas dinner that no one likes, puts on their plate out of politeness, and then doesn't eat and throws out later. 

Team Isaac!

--

On Saturday I drove around downtown Tulsa because I had some time to kill. Zach Bryan was at the BOK Center downtown, and when I realized what was happening I started laughing my ass off.

There were dozens of police cars around the BOK Center. There were police out directing traffic and multiple streets were blocked off.

It was a very big deal. 

For a guy who looks like a toad, cheats on everyone he dates and mailed his then-wife divorce papers when she was deployed? Like, really? This toad still has enough fans to fill the BOK Center?

Everything I've learned about ZB I've learned against my will. That diss track is a bop, though, and I know every single word. (Whose idea was it to give this oompa loompa a guitar? AND There's something in the orange and it's you behind these bars.)

Picture all of that security and police presence for ZB compared to Hanson. 

Hanson had one security guard taking tickets. Their sisters sold merchandise after the show. (I bought a poster and a pop socket.) 

Taylor Hanson bought and drives his own tour bus. 

My boys are a little more down to earth than ZB, and I love them for it. 

--

I'm not and never will be a Tulsa girlie. I will love and favor Oklahoma City for as long as my heart beats. 

However, Tulsa is beautiful in December. 

What a cool town. What an amazing band. 

My middle school self had excellent taste in music and nothing has changed since then.

:)

--

Ps, I just did the math. I've loved this band for 27 years. 

:)

Quotes :)

 Random quotes from the past few months of my life:

Overheard in the office: "I feel like I know Chief."

-

Mom in a craft store: "We're going to go. Goodbye forever."

7-year-old girl who didn't want to leave said store: "Take care."

-

"I hate it when I lose a bet and I have to buy someone else lunch."

-

Overheard in the Target parking lot: "I sent an email but nobody read it." 

-

Mom to her 2-year-old in Target: "If you want to buy everything then you need to get a job first." 

-

A note I found in the notes app on my phone with my context: "Things that bother me - Walmart salads." 

-

"Please don't use headless fat people."

Context: B-roll that TV stations use. 

-

"Isn't it delightful we live in such a dishonest world?"

-

"Masks are coming off faster than bras at the 505."

-

"Fight for what you care about, and do it in a way where others will join you." 

-

"History has its eyes on."

- 

"There's no reconciliation without reckoning." 

-

"You're not what I thought you'd look like. You're cuter."

Context: Veterinarian office talking to a dog. 

-

"He's going to meet you in front. Apparently he's wild and crazy." 

Veterinary secretary: "The dog?"

- 

Fight for your happily every after.

Context: Quote on my phone with no context given.

-

"I told her to close the tab, unless you want to pay for 10 Amaretto Sours."

Context: Texting my dad in a bar after an Eric Church concert because he couldn't hear me in the bar because it was so loud.

-

"I want to pull out all of my little grey hairs."

Context: Dad quote.

- 

"I want to reverse your face."

Context: 10-year-old niece playing Uno. 

-

"People support what they create."

-

"Notice I said involved and not cares. There are factions that are involved but don't care."

-

"Never ask for a large amount of money unless you know their dog's name." 

-

"I got the joy of rediscovering me."

“Hi Chief. I like your eyeshadow. Nice wing."

 The first day of Pugfest is something that I will remember for the rest of my life. 

A few hilarious things happened, but I’m going to start with my favorite first. The first afternoon, which was on a Saturday, a group of pre-teen girls came to the booth that I was volunteering in.

I went to Pugfest as a volunteer for Wichita Pug Rescue, an organization that I’ve been involved with for about 10 years and have adopted two Pugs from. My job at Pugfest was to run our kissing booth. I’ve never run the kissing booth at Pugfest, so I got a little training from more senior Kansas Pug officials before the event actually started.

I was to tell people that these Pugs are our world famous kissing Pugs. The Pugs will sell you a kiss for 50 cents, or you can pet them and cuddle them all you want for free. All the money raised goes to help rescue Pugs. 

There were four dogs in the kissing booth, including my two Pugs, Chief, who is 2 and who I just adopted in March, and Pickles, who is 9 and has the most adorable gray face and longest tongue you’ve ever seen. (I’ll talk about Pickles in a future blog post.)

There were three pre-teen girls in this group on Saturday afternoon and their Mom was with them as well. The girls liked Chief immediately. To be honest, every girl likes Chief and Chief likes every girl he meets. 

My boy Pug is a total womanizer and he can pretty much get any girl’s attention without much effort. Chief is show stoppingly beautiful. 

He knows it. 

He even flaunts it. 

So the girls turn their attention to Chief. One of the girls, who is dressed super cute with her hair and makeup done perfectly with gorgeous manicured nails, says to my dog: “Hi Chief. I like your eyeshadow. Nice wing.”

I didn’t miss a beat and I immediately asked the girls if they were Taylor Swift fans. The middle kid said yes, and her and her Mom immediately started grinning because they both knew what I was about to say. 

My response: “His cat eye is sharp enough to kill a man.”

And then I laughed so hard I don’t think I’ve ever laughed harder in my life. All four of us were rolling with laughter and for about 30 seconds or so, none of us could speak a coherent word. It was just a bunch of girls giggling about my boy Pug’s perfect eyeliner. 

When people at Pugfest asked me how and why I named him Chief, I asked if they were fans of country music, and when they said yes, I got to explain that I actually named my dog after my favorite country guy, Eric Church.

In one weekend in Kentucky, I managed to combine all of the things that I’m addicted to in life: Pugs, Taylor Swift and Eric Church.

This will be one of many blog posts I write about Pugfest. I’m actually shocked that I didn’t lose any Facebook friends over the weekend from my incessant posting about everything Pug related. 

Future blog posts might involve the story about how Pickles stole a sandwich, the list of crimes that Chief has committed in his four months with me, the story of Chief winning second place in his race when he was snoring in my lap literally two minutes before the race started, about how cool it is to volunteer for the actual Pugfest event itself, and a list of all the cool Pug names that I heard.

And then I’ll probably write about the dog bar we went to on Saturday night, where Pickles hit on every single man that she saw and where Chief earned a reputation for being the only Pug brave enough to run with the big dogs. That dog bar was probably the happiest three hours of my whole entire life.

One more thing about my Chiefy: I only met three Pugs at Pugfest bigger than him. Chief is a beefy boy. 

It turns out it’s actually socially acceptable to walk around Pugfest and ask total strangers from all over the country how much their boy Pugs weigh. A group of us were all doing the same thing, and every one of us basically had the same response.

Our response? 

I like big Pugs and I cannot lie. You other brothers can’t deny…Red beans and rice didn’t miss ya.

God, I hope those people know how incredibly blessed they are.

I wrote the following on May 7, 2007. Today is May 6, 2024, and I am currently sitting in a tornado safe room. I wrote this and posted it on Facebook 17 years ago tomorrow. I will never forget what happened the night that an EF-5 tornado wiped a small town near my hometown completely off the map. According to one guy I know: "The good Lord gives and the good Lord takes away. Who knows why it happened on that faithful day."

May 7, 2007

Another edit: I drove home the Sunday after the Greensburg Tornado happened back in May. I had to stay in Wichita Sunday night because of baad weather, and I left again early Monday morning. I still have that feeling in me, and I'll never forget it.

It's worse than putting your old dog to sleep. Worse than a fight with a best friend or boy (or both). Worse than being homesick. It's like your heart literally aches, and there's no cure, nothing that remotely even helps ease the pain.

I still cry when I think about Greensburg. At first, I couldn't figure out what makes me cry. Driving through the tornado-ravaged country doesn't. Reading about lost and injured animals does. Reading about a person's life-threatening injuries doesn't. Looking at people holding hands, praying in the parking lot does. News reports don't. Articles don't. Some pictures do. People do. Talking about it doesn't. Thinking about it does. Thinking about the pain that I still feel does. I can't imagine a day when that'll subside.

-

I left Wichita at 5 o'clock this morning. I decided to stay there last night because the thunderstorms out west were producing hail, and that hail busted my dad's windshield on his work truck.

I decided that'd be no fun, driving with no windshield in the rain.

So I left Wichita this morning. Well, let me back up. As soon as I laid down last night- to watch Desperate Housewives- I fell asleep. I woke up around 1 this morning. Around 3:30 or so I decided I was awake, not really doing anything productive, so I decided to leave.

So I got my things ready. As I was holding all of my bags and stuff, I saw this flash of light, and felt thunder shake the place I was staying at. Then tornado sirens went off.

Um...they don't teach you what to do about that in college. :-S It was then said that the sirens were a false alarm. Phew.

I left around 5 this morning, as I already said. Anyway, my plan was to go to Haviland, then go North to Lewis. There was an asphalt road my Dad told me to take (I don't like dirt roads, especially with so much rain).

Along the way, you would not believe the devastation. Trees were laying on their side, and I'm not just talking about trees snapping. The roots and the tree were in tact, and there were huge holes in the ground were the roots once were. More impressively, there were little houses tucked away beyond those trees that were untouched.

I just kept thinking, God, I hope those people know how incredibly blessed they are.

Then, as I veered left, I saw more debris. There was a house on that corner, or what was left of a house. There was no roof, and the left side of the house was gone; I'm guessing that was the debris that was in the ditch.

You see it on tv, and you think shucks, that really sucks for those poor people. But to see a house, or what was once a house, like that in person, is just so incredibly mind-numbing..

The plan to take that road was all good and dandy for about 15 minutes, then I came across a small lake covering the road. Could I have made it across? My Dad thinks so, if I was "Going 80 or something."

And, um, in case you didn't know this, I have a mild issue with water. I'M SO AFRAID OF IT! Needless to say, I turned around and went back to Haviland. Oh, did I mention there was no cell phone service? So if I would have gotten stuck, I would have been walking aimlessly around trying to find somebody to help me when they probably have better things to do.

Hm.

I signaled a guy over that was directing traffic and told him I was heading west, and I asked which way was the safest to go. He told me there was no safe way to go from Haviland. He re-routed me back to Pratt.

Wow. There was no safe way to go? That sounds really strange when you actually hear it come out of a person's mouth. :-(

And you wouldn't believe all the emergency vehicles I saw. I was in Haviland at 8 this morning, and I just kept seeing lines and lines of power trucks, ambulances, police cars, fire trucks, disaster relief trucks, red cross trucks, insurance people, trucks carrying phone poles, garbage trucks, the list just goes on and on.

So I went back to Pratt. I went to Wal-Mart to buy a map and a drink. The guy in front of me was from Greensburg, and was buying jeans and boots. He said everything in his basement was in tact Friday night, but with the mandatory evacuation he had to leave, and everything in his basement got wet from the second set of storms and was since ruined.

He literally didn't have anything. The lady he was with bought his stuff, I'm assuming it was his sister. Everybody who walked into Wal-Mart looked at them and immediately asked, "You ok? Everyone you know ok? Do you have a house left? Have you heard from so and so?"

He was okay. Everyone he knew was okay. His son (or daughter, I don't remember) was in the Pratt hospital with a broken leg.

There were signs at the check out telling customers if they were going to use aid from the red cross (or another organization, I don't remember which one), they were to tell the cashier before they scanned the items.

Wow. Federal aid? That's something you see on tv. That's something you'd expect to see/hear coming out of New Orleans post-Katrina. Not something you'd see in Kansas.

There were disaster relief trucks sitting in the Wal-Mart parking lot. There were people out in the middle of the parking lot holding hands and praying.

After I left Pratt, I turned north and headed to Saint John, with a map in hand just in case. Macksville was flooded, but we drove in the middle turning lane, so it wasn't terrible. I told my Dad I could actually see the road beneath the water, and by Haviland I couldn't.

Macksville wasn't as bad as Haviland, but there were still downed power lines, fields that are now lakes, and trees and tree limbs everywhere. I read somewhere online that the trees look like the trees at the Bulter County Lake.

They were right. And you know those huge, um, things in fields that water the, um, fields? (Not a farmer here, sorry). They were all laying on their sides.

So that's my story. It took me over five and a half hours to get from Wichita to Dodge. I'm not complaining, though. It's unbelievable to think, no, know that an F-5 tornado touched down just miles from where I was, home, friends and family.

My dad has a co-worker in Greensburg that lost everything. When I talked to my dad briefly yesterday afternoon, that co-worker was beside him in Greensburg working.

And I think that says it all right there.

--

I'm editing this because 1) I can't sleep and 2) I can't stop thinking about this.

You can stop reading if you're sick of hearing about this. But I'm not.

It's weird. That Friday night, the check-out time was 6 p.m. for the dorms in Winfield. Everybody had to be out by then. I had to work for graudation, so I stayed. Plus, I took a friend to the airport late Friday night.

I spent Friday playing around Wichita with that friend. I wasn't very happy with the idea at first, but we had a fun time, saw a good movie and ate at a new restaurant.

I called my parents at 9:30 to ask them to bring a vacuum with them the next day, because they were going to help me pack and move all my stuff from Winfield to Dodge.

My Mom didn't talk much. I could tell she was upset. I remember telling me friend that I couldn't think of anything I'd done recently to make her so upset (lol..).

As I was driving back to Winfield around midnight that night, my parents called me back and told me what happened.

Woah.

There was no tv reports then, because all was dark and traffic was, you know, traffic. The next day, my Dad came and moved my stuff, including my tv, and such. We went out to eat, and I took him on a tour of the great city of Winfield (ha, ha).

This was that Saturday afternoon, and I still hadn't seen daylight images of Greensburg. So my Dad and I went up to the third floor of Cole Hall and watched the images of Greensburg on tv.

My aunt called in the midst of this. My Dad had told me earlier that my aunt had gone to Greensburg right after it happened to help with the animals running around. (She works for the animals shelter in Dodge.)

I couldn't understand a word she said, she was so upset.

(I'll never forget that feeling at that particular moment. I was talking to my aunt, well actually I was just listening to her cry, and I looked up at my Dad. I've never seen that look on his face before. We hugged after I got off the phone, and I just started bawling.)

Later, she would tell me of how they had to put a horse down, because all of its legs were broken. After I talked to her, my Dad left, and I went about and worked.

That night, as I was sitting in my dorm room television-less, a single thought ran through my head. It was late, and I had gone through a long day. I thought- If I had left Winfield at 6 p.m. Friday, the deadline for checking out at the dorms, I'd hate to think where I would have been around 9:30-9:45ish.

I've driven home on a Friday night before, and it takes about 4 hours.

If I would have left Friday at 6 p.m., I would have been in the vicinity of Greensburg around 9:30ish.

And then I cried.

A lot.

I've been crying since then. Every since I've told family and friends that, I can't describe it. Everything's just been a little bit different.

Hugs and kisses tend to last a little longer then they did before.

The Monday after that, I went down to the animal shelter to visit with my aunt. She showed me all the animals they rescued from Greensburg and Great Bend. Most of the dogs got taken to Pratt, and Dodge took the cats.

Some cages were marked in red- those were the animals that bit people while being rescued. Most of those animals were just momma cats trying to protect their babies.

I held one kitten. Now, I normally don't like cats, but this little thing was adorable. My aunt kept saying, "Monica, God knows that those animals saw and went throught that night."

And that little kitten, as soon as I quit petting it or facing it, it would slap me across the nose with its paw. :-)

I stayed there a long time that afternoon. I don't even know why. Maybe I just wanted to let those little cats and kittens know that there was someone in the world who would hold them and pet them and tell them everything was going to be all right.

My aunt pointed out a few things to me and told me stories that I'll never forget. She said most of the pets will never be claimed.

She also said one of the vets came over to her in Greensburg that night to perform surgery on a cat, right in the middle of the rubble. She said the doctor was so relieved to find an animal alive, he wanted to do anything to save it.

When I moved to Oklahoma, I had to again drive through the tornado damage to get here. I still can't quite describe that feeling.. One thing that is sort of comforting, though, is that Oklahoma City understands that feeling. Greensburg was the first F-5 tornado since the Moore tornado in 1999, which killed 44 people. That, and the bombing, and you kind of get the idea that people here understand pain.

I drove through Greensburg at least a dozen times this year. I drove through the weekend before my birthday, which was three weeks before the tornado happened.

I keep trying to picture what the town looked like.

I can't.

I have one memory of Greensburg, and that's the one stop light in town. I drove home from Wichita my freshman year of college, and I drove home in bad weather. I tried stopping at that stop light, and I did an impressive 360 on the ice. The semi behind me did the same thing. The guy at the gas station looked at me and laughed.

And that gas station is literally the only thing I remember about a town that no longer exists.

I wrote a story last year for the Globe about Greensburg's Big Well-come celebration. I printed it off and I have it on my fridge now.

I imagine it's going to be there for a long time to come.

From my story last summer-
"We just want to welcome everyone around the area to come to Greensburg," said Darin Headrick, president of the Greensburg Chamber of Commerce. "There's something for everyone. It should be a nice, fun day."

Love never dies.

I’ve been thinking about writing this for days, and I need to get it over with.

I need to write about Penny.

I don’t know where to start, so I’m going to start from the beginning.

Penny was my birthday present for my 26th birthday. My family knew I wanted a small dog, and my aunt called me one day and told me I had a dog. A Pug.

Sweet!

I will never forget the day I met Penny. I remember holding her and thinking that I wasn’t expecting her little face to be that cute.

She had a perfect Pug forehead full of wrinkles. They were so adorable!

Penny came home with me to my mom and dad’s house that night. The intention was for me to bring her back to my apartment in eastern Kansas that weekend.

But here’s the thing about Penny: Penny did not understand how to be a puppy. She screamed at me. She spit in my face. She whined and cried all night while I slept by her with a pillow and blanket by the floor.

This cute little Pug puppy turned into a demonic monster almost immediately the day I brought her home. She was so difficult my family and I decided she was the worst dog we’d ever had.

I went back to eastern Kansas without her. My parents kept her for a while, and when Penny drove them to the point of insanity, Penny went to live with Uncle Jeff for a while.

Penny became the Springer family Pug.

I got her anxiety medicine for separation anxiety, and a few months later Penny made the trek east for me.

About a week later, she chewed her way through an electrical cord in my bedroom when she was bored one night while I was sleeping.

When I realized what happened, I took her to the vet to make sure the burn marks in her mouth weren’t anything serious.

The vet I went through asked me a lot about Pugs. He asked me if I had ever owned one, and when I said no, that old man got a twinkle in his eye.

He told me that they were the best dogs ever. He told me that out of all the dog breeds, this breed was so special that it has its own festival, called Pugfest.

The vet told me Penny was an idiot, but she was fine health wise. And the the vet told me to check out Pugfest sometime.

From that moment in life became about Penny and me. We went walking, we checked out dog parks - there was a Great Dane that loved little dogs who always came into our area of the park to check Penny out (with my permission.). She loved playing with him.

Penny turned out to be the best dog ever.

The thing about Penny is that she was never a friendly, outgoing dog. Penny had her close circle of trust - people who raised her as a crazy puppy - and she only really liked those people and no one else.

Penny was with me in an apartment, she bought a house with me, and she met every single guy I ever dated.

Which brings me to my favorite story about her. Penny played fetch with every single guy I ever dated. Please make sure you understand that - Penny played fetch with them, on purpose. Not the other way around.

Penny would sit on the couch between me and whoever I was dating, and she would have her favorite little tennis ball in her mouth. She would spit it out, on the floor, on purpose.

Then Penny would look at whichever guy was sitting beside her. The guy would inevitably get up, get the tennis ball, and give it back to her.

She did this repeatedly until I told the guy to stop chasing the ball.

When the guy got up, Penny would look up at me. She just gave me a look and I understand what she meant by that look.

No guy I ever dated was smart enough to figure out that Penny was playing fetch with them on purpose. Judging by the look she gave me, she knew that, too.

Like really, Mom? This is what I have to work with?

Penny, I’m sorry. I tried but none of them were good enough for you.

Another story about Penny as a puppy: I worked out of town and out of state a lot when she was little. My parents would watch her for the week while I was away.

One night, I was in Nebraska and my Mom called me. She was cussing and screaming and I honestly didn’t know she knew that many cuss words.

I didn’t do anything to deserve that anger, so I just kind of let it go.

After a minute or two, I figured out what my Mom was mad at. Penny Pug, as a puppy, killed a rat in my mom and dad’s backyard, then brought the rat into the house and buried it in my mom’s living room couch.

My Dad was out, so my Mom was left to deal with a dead rat in the house.

I don’t see the problem in saving a little snack for later. 🤷‍♀️

Penny was the best thing that ever happened to me. The worst birthday gift I ever got turned out to be the biggest blessing in my life.

—-

Grief is a wild ride.

I knew that losing Penny would be devastating. I knew that it would destroy me and I knew I wouldn’t be okay for a long time after that.

I don’t know if it’s normal to obsess over a song and have that be the song you listen to when you're crying your eyes out, but for the past week I’ve been obsessed with The Architect by Kacey Musgraves.

Even something as small as an apple
It's simple and somehow complex
Sweet and divine, the perfect design
Can I speak to the architect?

And there's a canyon that cuts through the desert
Did it get there because of a flood?
Was it devised, or were you surprised
When you saw how grand it was?

This is hard to write about, but someone smart once told me that when you write about something, you start to heal from it.

So we’re going to talk about the hard stuff now.

Guys, I’ve been thinking about this all week. I understand life, I think, and I understand death, I think, and I understand that life is a part of death and that death is a part of life.

I have seen death through work, a lot, and I know in my head that all things that live will eventually die.

I told my parents not too long ago that I didn’t think Penny would live to the end of the year. I got her for my birthday in April, so I really wanted her to live to see her gotcha day anniversary.

Penny’s body started declining, and it happened to rapidly that I’m still in shock at how fast it was.

I regret a lot about the last few weeks of her life. Penny, I’m so sorry you suffered. You deserved so much better.

One night, I took her to the best place in the state to help her, which was a university veterinary hospital a couple of hours away from my house.

They took her for an after hours emergency appointment.

I sat in the waiting room and I cried so hard that there were actually sores on the sides of my eyes from my tears.

Guys, I know what the answer is to this situation, but I just wanted someone to tell me out loud that it was time.

And no one told me that. They gave Penny medicine for one month and dodged the rest of my questions.

I left that university town around 9:30 p.m., and I drove back to my city. I am not a fan of nighttime driving, and I was so tired that I just prayed that I would stay awake and get us all home safely.

Was it thought out at all, or just paint on a wall?
Is there anything that you regret?
I don't understand, are there blueprints or plans?
Can I speak to the architect?

It was me, alone on the interstate, driving in total darkness. There were a lot of clouds out that night, and I remember searching the sky, trying to see stars.

I finally found some, and as soon as I found the stars, I realized something and I will never forget that moment.

That was the moment that I realized that I loved this dog so much that I was willing to end her suffering. I knew that she would not survive this ordeal, and I told myself that I had to be strong enough to let her go.

That night when I got home, I got Penny situated and put her in bed. I got down on the ground and had a conversation with her. I told her that she was free to stay around for as long as she wanted. I told her that I would cancel my travel plans, get her whatever medicine she needed, and give her oxygen if she needed it.

I told her that I would make her end days as comfortable as possible.

And then I told Penny that she didn’t have to stay if she didn’t want to. I told her that if she wanted to go, I would let her go.

I told her that she didn’t have to stick around for me. I was ready if she was ready.

I kissed her, told her goodnight, and then told her that she needed to tell me if it was time.

The next morning when I woke up, I knew instantly that it was time.

Penny told me loud and clear.

Sometimes I look in the mirror
And wish I could make a request
Could I pray it away? Am I shapeable clay
Or is this as good as it gets?

I didn’t realize that Penny was holding on because I was holding on. She wasn’t willing to let go until she knew that I was strong enough to let go.

I made the last few hours of Penny’s life the best day ever. I bought her a double cheeseburger. I put her in bed beside me, and I turned my Bluetooth speaker on.

I played Penny and Me, the song that she is named after. I played it on repeat and I explained to my dog that my best friend and I found this band when we were little. I told Penny about that band, how I had a meet and greet with them, and how the song that she is named after is 20 years old.

Penny was almost 14 years old. I told her that I loved that song so much, I knew that I wanted to name my dog after it.

I sat on that name for six years until I got a dog of my own.

Then I played her all of the other music in my life. I told her about concerts, about meet and greets and plane rides and big cities and the people I’ve met along the way.

Pickles came and laid by Penny. I turned a lamp on for some soft lighting, and we chilled out and listened to music in her final hours.

I told her that she was going to this place called the Rainbow Bridge, and that there would be dogs waiting for her on the other side. I told her that she would get to meet my childhood dogs, Socks and Patches, and then I named off all the other dogs my family has had over the years.

I told her that there would be no pain, only happiness and warmth. I told her she would not be alone.

I never realized how much dogs can completely wreck you. I heard a saying that the reason people love dogs so much is because the only time they break your heart is when their heart stops beating.

One day, you're on top of the mountain
So high that you'll never come down
Then the wind at your back carries ember and ash
Then it burns your whole house to the ground

When I brought Penny home, she was wrapped in my arms in love and warmth and kindness.

She left the world in the same way. I got in her sweet little beautiful face because I wanted to be sure that I was the last person she would see before she left the world - not a doctor’s office or people she didn’t know.

She drifted off to sleep, started snoring, and then that was that.

I really wanted to take her to a nature area by my house on her final day. I wanted her to relax in the sunshine and breathe in fresh air.

When I woke up that morning, it was 45 degrees and raining. I knew instantly why the weather was the way it was.

This dog was so special that even God cried the day she left this earth.

Like I said earlier, in theory, I understand life and I understand death. I understand that death is a part of life and that life is a part of death.

To say that I am struggling right now is an understatement. This grief is so real that there are moments when I honestly just can’t function.

I can’t believe I live in a world where Penny doesn’t exist.

Is it thought out at all, or just paint on a wall?
Is there anything that you regret?
I don't understand, are there blueprints or plans?
Can I speak to the architect?

I went to a concert a week after she passed away. Guys, I would have skipped that concert in a heartbeat if she were still alive. At one point, I thought about taking the dogs with me and driving Penny to the ocean so she could see the beach before she died.

But life is cruel and what happened happened.

I thought about not going. I was so mad at the world and hurt and grieving that I thought about staying home and sulking in my grief, sadness and depression.

I left for that concert when I really didn’t want to, and for that, I am really proud of myself. I wore Pug shoes with sunglasses on them to the concert, for Penny.

I had a moment where I was singing my favorite song by my favorite artist that I thought about Penny and I wondered if she was proud of me for trying to be happy.

And then I lost it. I cried so hard in that dark crowded room and I didn’t even try to hide it. The house lights came on and I remember turning all around, looking at the people around me and looking at the total bliss and euphoria on their faces.

Somehow that night, the music seemed sweeter. The vibe around me was vibing and I don’t know if it was the sadness or grief, but the music I heard that night was the best music I had ever heard in my whole entire life.

My favorite song of his? That was the best version of it I’ve ever heard. The song after that? Best version ever. Wash, rinse, repeat.

It felt like that was the first time I had ever seen this guy in concert or heard his music. (Hint: I’ve done this a few times now.)

Someone asked me after the concert if I was okay, because I had visible tear stains on my cheeks.

I don’t remember my response, but in my head the answer was no.

I am not okay.

I thought that I was too broken
And maybe too hard to love
I was in a weird place, then I saw the right face
And the stars and the planets lined up

And I think that is perfectly okay. I think it’s okay to cry and I think it’s okay to scream and I think it’s okay to be upset that the dog that you had for 13 years is no longer by your side.

My family and my friends back home knew that this was going to tear me apart. They knew that I would not be okay after this. So they did what they do best - they let me fall apart, then they took care of me and tried to put the broken pieces back together.

Well, they did as best they could. When someone knocked on my door and delivered puppy flowers, I lost it and couldn’t look at the card for a few days.

Grief is a wild ride.

Does it happen by chance? Is it all happenstance?
Do we have any say in this mess?
Is too late to make some more space?
Can I speak to the architect?
This life that we make, is it random or fate?
Can I speak to the architect?

Is there an architect?

—

I knew before Penny passed away that I would be adopting a new dog. I already named him and already loved him.

I knew that if I could just survive this awful, tragic day, that I would eventually smile again and have happiness waiting for me.

I know that in order to get to the good times, you have to experience the pain and hurt head on first.

The only way out is through. Through the tears, the sobbing and the grief so real that my body physically hurts from it.

Here is what I know to be true: Love never dies.

On the night I got home from the concert, I did my nightly routine. I took a shower, brushed my teeth and did my skincare.

And then I did what I always did before bed - I looked for Penny. She was usually in her bed, but sometimes she went to eat supper. She would usually walk, but sometimes her legs would give out and I would find her sitting somewhere random.

I would find her and carry her to bed. When I gave her a ‘ride’ I called it a Pug Uber. I told Penny that she owed me $5 for that ride.

And then she would kiss me and wag her tail.

That night, a week after she died, I wandered around my place and I looked for my dog.

She wasn’t in her bed, she wasn’t by the food bowl and she wasn’t by the front door. I also looked in the laundry room to see if she got trapped in there.

Where is Penny? Why can’t I find her?

And when I realized what I was doing, I completely lost it.

I was looking for my dead dog.

I cried so hard that I couldn’t even speak. I didn’t know what else to do, so, a few minutes after midnight, I called my Mom. She was already asleep and when she answered, all I could do was sob.

She listened to me cry until I told her what I as wrong.

I couldn’t find Penny. Where was she?

My Mom told me that I loved Penny for 13 years and that the love I felt her her would never die. She told me that grief lasts for way more than a week and she told me that it’s fine and normal that I was crying and not okay at the moment.

She also told me that I was strong enough to adopt a new dog and welcome it into my life, just like I did with Penny.

She told me that another dog deserved my love. She told me that I was strong enough to love again.

And I am.

And for the record, I picked up Penny’s ashes the next day. I put the bag in my car, looked at it and said out loud: “You know, I was looking for you last night. I’m glad I found you.”

Grief is a wild ride.

Penny was the best thing that ever happened to me. For 13 years, it was always Penny and Me tonight.

I will never forget how soft her fur was or how her ears felt like velvet on my fingertips.

I remember her adorable little forehead wrinkles and how her paws always smelled like Cheetos. And let’s not forget how she Pug loafed or her Cinnabon tail.

I love you, Penny. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.

You taught me how to love, how to laugh, how to deal with anxiety and how to sleep in until noon on the weekends.

You taught me that it’s okay to hide underneath the covers.

You were the Greatest Pug in the History of Pugs. You were the best dog on the planet. You were such a good dog that God himself cried the day he met you.

I hope you liked me and I hope I did a good enough job raising you.

I love you to the moon and back, I love you all the stars in the sky. I love you through the clouds and the storms and through the smoke from the fires in the hills in eastern Kansas.

I’ll love you forever.

(And for what it's worth, I've been to Pugfest in the past and I'm going to Pugfest this year.)