Something special

I've been to a lot of concerts. I wish I had a way to calculate how many. All I know is that my love of live music began with New Kids on the Block in second grade and since my New Year's resolution in 2011, I try to go to one every month.

I've never been to a truly bad concert. Once, I saw Blake Shelton open for Brad Paisley and he was so drunk and obnoxious, I knew I'd never pay to see him as an individual. But that's about the worst I've ever seen. But then there are good concerts. Great concerts. Amazing concerts. Concerts where you are relatively sober but walk out into the night feeling high. For me, those concerts have been, in no particular order:

1. Justin Timberlake and Jay Z in N.Y.C.
2. Garth Brooks in Charleston, S.C.
3. The Rolling Stones in Raleigh
4. Pearl Jam in Greenville, S.C.

The latest addition to that list is Chris Stapleton, Charlotte N.C.

Long before Chris set foot on stage to sing "Drink you away" with Justin Timberlake in 2015, I was a fan. His "What are you listening to" was a constant repeat play of mine in 2013. His soulful sound a bluesy voice got me every time. I think there is something so special about Chris Stapleton. He's not pop country at all. He reminds me of both Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson. If you know me at all, you know this is about as high as praise gets for me.

Showing more similarity to Cash, Chris doesn't have a woman behind him. His woman is always beside him. Morgane Stapleton, armed with a tambourine, sings harmony along with her husband. The two of them together is one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard. "That's what an angel sounds like," this drunk guy behind me yelled. Of course, I high-fived him.

His song, "Fire Away"is my personal favorite. While the powerful lyrics can sound like another typical love song, the music video tells the real story. "Fire Away" is a story about mental health, suicide and loving someone despite all the challenge that can bring.

Saturday night, about 3/4 of the way through the show, Chris strummed the first two chords of "Fire Away" and without provocation, the crowd went nuts. Chris stopped, kind of startled. He tried to start again and the crowd kept screaming. And screaming. It was a good three or four minutes before he was able to start the song. And the crowd kept singing, as loudly as they could, throughout the entire song. I'm not talking about the cheesy singing where the singer turns the mic to the crowd. I am talking about real, spontaneous, singing. Twenty-thousand people just belting it out.

At the end of the song, Chris and his wife seemed totally overwhelmed and asked everyone to turn the lights on the phone and sing it again. "I want you to sing it again, louder than last time, but I am not sure that's possible," he said.

So, everyone whips out their phones. A few old dudes even pulled out their lighters. And we sang it again. And on that perfect May night, (Yes, even the weather was perfect) it felt like everything in the world was right. It was one of those truly special moments that make you glad to be alive.

'You're the first person in town to own this album.'

Editor's note: It's taken me more than two weeks to write about the Pearl Jam concert because it was that good. I kept writing and rewriting drafts and just couldn't get it right. So I asked Brad to do it and I think to say he did it justice is an understatement. So, please enjoy my first-ever guest blog!

Guest Author: Brad Dickerson

It’s impossible for me to approach a review of Pearl Jam’s electrifying April 16, 2016 show in Greenville, S.C., without sharing a little personal history.

Flashback to Oct. 19, 1993, and you’d find this then-13-year-old lad having his mom take him to a local record store in Glasgow, Ky., called, conveniently, Record Rack to make a purchase.

This was a big day; it was the day Pearl Jam’s sophomore effort, “Vs.” was being released. And in my hometown of less than 14,000 people, you had two options when it came to buying music – Wal-Mart or Record Rack.

Back in those days, the big box store’s CD shelves were full of albums from a plethora of country artists or more pop-friendly acts like Mariah Carey, Sting and the like. If you wanted a rocker, Record Rack was your destination.

In the center row, I found about seven copies of “Vs.” This was not a decision that needed a second thought; I was ready to make my purchase.

As I handed the CD to the cashier, he commented that it was the first copy he’d sold all day. Then, he said something that I still remember to this day:

“Congratulations. You’re the first person in Glasgow to own this album.”

For the 13-year-old who had been utterly possessed by their legendary debut album, “Ten,” hearing those words made me feel as though I was at the forefront of Pearl Jam fandom.

Which made what transpired more than 20 years later at Greenville’s Bon Secours Wellness Arena all the more earth-shattering for this lifetime fan of the Seattle stalwarts.'

Eddie Vedder and company opened the raucous show with “Corduroy,” which quickly set the tone for the rocking affair myself and 16,000 other fans were in for. It was followed by “Vs.’” opening track, “Go.” Not missing a beat, they segued into track No. 2, “Animal,” followed immediately by “Daughter.” Suddenly, it hit me; are they about to do what I think they’re going to do? We’ll see what the next song is.

And to my absolute delight, it was “Vs.’” fourth track, “Glorified G,” a rollicking face melter that remains my favorite song in Pearl Jam’s catalog. Plus, it confirmed what I was praying was about to happen; they were going to play the album in its entirety from front to back.

Sure enough, the next eight songs were from “Vs.” in sequential order. I could have called it a night right then and there and said the show was well worth the price of admission.

But this is Pearl Jam we’re talking about here. They weren’t even close to done. In fact, they were just getting started.

Having said that, before I continue with this long-winded review (if you’re still reading, then God bless you), I need to pause and reflect on what a moment this was.

In 25 years, Pearl Jam has only played an entire album live two previous times. That means over the course of thousands of shows, only three audiences have gotten to experience what I had just experienced.

Wow.

It’s just part of the magic of seeing this band live; no two setlists are ever the same.I live for seeing bands in concert. It’s just a passion of mine. And like any audience member, I want to hear the hits.

Unfortunately, for a number of acts, they stick to a tried and true script and rarely alter their batting order. That doesn’t mean the shows are any less fun, but it can make them feel a bit stale. You find yourself yearning for one or two wild cards.

Pearl Jam excels at wild cards. One of their biggest hits is unquestionably “Jeremy.” I’ve seen the band live five times and haven’t heard the song once. But I have heard a stellar cover of Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” and a tear-generating version of “Future Days” from their most recent effort, 2013’s “Lightning Bolt.”Both made it into the Greenville setlist. No “Jeremy” required.

And when it was time to wrap it up, the band left everything on the stage with their final four numbers: “Better Man,” an arena-wide singalong of “Alive,” the balls-to-the-wall thunder generated by covering The Who’s “Baba O’ Riley” and the perfect last call number, “Yellow Ledbetter.”

After more than three hours and 32 songs, the band gave their final bows and left the stage.

Our audience was hungry for another three hours. The reason why is simple; Pearl Jam encapsulates rock and roll.

They may have burst onto the scene as one of the ambassadors of grunge at the start of the 1990s. However, as the years passed and many of their contemporaries suffered personal heartache or simply faded away, they evolved into what they’d always been at their core – a classic rock band that is one part Zepellin, two parts Springsteen and a dash of Iggy Pop.

And for one thrilling night, they held all of us in the palm of their hand with their unprecedented set list, infectious energy and a sheer determination to be the best at what they do.

For the 13-year-old who still lives deep inside, it was nice to see that my money was well spent that day at Record Rack. For that purchase would make up a large portion of the greatest concert I’ve ever seen.

Let's all focus on this manufactured drama to avoid our real lives

The Real Housewives is my secret shame. Like a bad boyfriend, I've tried many times to dump this franchise of shows about insane women. I've watched every city. Even Miami. (And I don't know that anyone else watches that one, even Andy Cohen.)

So, when I found out about the The Real Housewives of Charlotte: A parody, I knew I had to go and I knew I had to take my friend Jean who is equally obsessed with these bitches.

The show was at the Booth Playhouse, which is a perfect smaller venue for this intimate feeling show. The cast of six (Randy Bowen and five housewives) uses a minimal script, improving for a majority of the show. For each city this national tour hits, they incorporate a ton of local jokes and references. I knew that we were in for a good show when they began with some typical opening credits that found the housewives holding Bojangles chicken boxes to represent the Queen City.

Each of the five housewives borrowed from the personalities of women from all of the cities to create one monster housewife.

There's Ravonka, (Lori McClain) who's terrible accent comes and goes. She claims to be royalty and carries a small dog around in her purse.

Gwen is a convicted felon who used to be former Mayor Patrick Cannon's top adviser. She was also convicted of running a toll booth on I-77 before it was ever approved. Her one-liners, including a joke about making Pat McCrory disappear, stole the show.

Brooke is a straight shooter from the tough streets of Kannapolis. She is an "entrepreneuress" whose latest business venture is butt writing on the seats of ladies' pants. Her greatest idea reads, "If you feel stuck, push harder."

Claudia Louise, who wants to me known as C.L., is the only housewife who is actually married. She gets to show off her husband, who was an unsuspecting audience member Mark. Poor Mark gets dragged into the show but manages to be a great sport all the way until the end of the show.

The final housewife is Desiree who says, "I always stick my neck out for my friends. Maybe that's because I am a neck model."

Jackson Evans did an amazing job portraying the glee and desperation of Andy Cohen. Every time the ladies announced sad news, he did a happy  jig. "We also have a tragedy this season," he gleefully told the audience. "And we're not going to tell you what it is yet, but we're going to tease the hell out of it and make you feel obligated to watch."

I think that's what's so intriguing to me about the housewives franchise. It's totally compelling television, but it's not my drama. There are no consequences for me. It's just fun TV. Sometimes, there is guilt in knowing that these are real people's lives. Or as Randy said, "Let's all focus on this manufactured drama to avoid our real lives."

The parody show, just like the Bravo franchise, is a fun escape from real life.

The best concert I've ever been to....

There are very few artists that I would buy tickets to see the day I return from a seven-day cruise. But when I found out that Garth Brooks would be in Charleston the day I returned to Charleston, I figured this was meant to be.

I feel like one of the best things about adulthood is being able to go to whatever concerts I want. And I certainly have! But there are a handful of artists that are on my concert bucket list that I haven't been able to see just because they haven't been on tour. Seeing Garth Brooks is something I've wanted to do since I was a little girl. So I was overjoyed when Garth announced a tour in 2014. And I waited. And waited. And waited. His show in Greensboro last year sold out in seconds and I'd almost given up. Every other week or so, I'd get an e-mail from him announcing a new tour date and he seemed to be getting further and further away. So, Charleston seemed like a special performance for me.

But I wasn't the only one that wanted to see Garth. He scheduled six shows in three days for Charleston. Thankfully, because I am old and easily tired, Brad and I had tickets to the 7 p.m. early show at the North Charleston Performing Arts Center.

We had great seats and the venue was very small with a capacity for 13,000. This gave the concert a more intimate feel. Before the show started, there was a giant "G" on the stage that rotated. A 60-second countdown came up before the show started and revealed a giant sphere where the drummer sat. Garth started with "Man Against the Machine" and I was a little concerned. I am not here for your new stuff, Garth!

Luckily, after his opening number, Garth seemed to read my mind. "When I go to a show, I want to hear the old stuff!"he yelled. And that's exactly what he did. For the next nearly three hours, I got to hear very one of my favorite Garth songs.

The songs varied in tempo and message, but the audience was enthusiastic about every bit of it. Brad and I both agreed that we'd never been to a louder concert. There were some amazing graphics that produced a rain storm during "The Thunder Rolls." After that song, Trisha Yearwood came out to sing a duet of "In Another's Eyes." Brooks took a well-deserved break while Yearwood sang, songs like, "How Do I Live" and "She's in Love with The Boy." She also had a stadium-style kiss cam and warned audience members to go grab a beer if they were at the concert with someone other than their significant others. I found this particularly amusing as Garth and Trisha didn't exactly have the most clean get together.

For his third act, Garth told us that his favorite song to perform is "Calling Baton Rouge." I've read an interview with him before where he says he always wanted a song that people recognize on the first chord. He definitely accomplished that with "Friends in Low Places"

I can't say enough about how energetic Garth is. I have a DVD of his one-man show in Vegas. It was very low-key. I was kind of expecting the same thing. But he defied my expectations by running around the stage, climbing things and keeping the audience energized. It was definitely the best concert I've ever been to. Even though I was exhausted and was still having the "rocking on a boat" feeling, I am so glad we got to go.

You can change the world when you change your mind

Since the Magic Mike show tickets sold out in, oh, five seconds, I had to find another event for January. There was a great TravelZoo deal on Kinky Boots tickets at Blumenthal Performance Arts Center, so Brad and I were there Jan. 2.

Our seats were W 207 and 208 and I plan on trying to get these seats for every show that I see. They were two seats isolated from everyone else in the orchestra section and they were amazing.

I knew that Kinky Boots was the Tony-award winning Musical of the Year, but I had no idea what the story was about. Based on a true story, Kinky Boots is about Brit Charlie Price who reluctantly returns to his father's shoe failing shoe factory after his father's death. Faced with having to lay off employees, Charlie needs a creative spark to keep the shoe factory alive. He meets Lola, a drag queen, who gives him the idea to create ladies shoes for men.

This is normally the part in the blog where I talk about the individual performances and actors, but unfortunately I left my playbill on my seat during intermission and it was TAKEN! I've asked Liam Neeson to get it back for me. Until then, I can say that we were both very impressed with the quality of the performances. The actors were not only great singers, but amazing dancers as well. I have to give credit to the women AND men who pulled off the expertly crafted choreography in high-heeled boots.

My absolute favorite thing about the show is the true, unfiltered relationship between Charlie and Lola. It was a unique story that tugged at your heart strings without being overly corny. The pair learned how to respect each other and that was fun to watch.

The theme of the show is about being different and accepting other's for who they are. "You can change the world when you change your mind" is the show's theme. It's a good goal for me, to try to be more accepting of others in this new year.

I just want to see you be brave...

This blog has been through a couple of purposes since 2011 but this year, we're going back to our  roots. You can read everything you need to know about how that blog started here but all you really need to know is this space was originally created to write about enjoying one live event every month of the year. This month, I am resolving to continue that original goal.

There a couple of reasons for that. I went to some great concerts this year (The Rolling Freaking Stones) and didn't blog about that. Unacceptable. Also, 2015 hasn't been the best year for me for many, many reasons. I don't know if 2016 will be any better, but I am trying to be optimistic. And finally, I have a bucket list concert scheduled for next year (no spoilers) and I have to write about that!

I'm starting the resolution a little early this year, thanks to a birthday present from my friend Jean. Even though she couldn't attend the Amy Schumer show in Charlotte Dec. 19, she bought me tickets and encouraged me to take a friend. I invited my friend Maya, who now lives in Columbia. My strengthening friendship with Maya is one of the good things that happened in 2015.

I've been obsessed with Amy Schumer since 1997 when she lost to local comedian John Reap. And was forever on her side because she was so much better than him. It's been fascinating to watch her career grow and her show, Inside Amy Schumer, really sealed our girl crush.

The parody that she did about Friday Night Lights, one of my favorite TV shows of all times, proves that rape jokes can work when done correctly.




Maya came to visit. We went to Fahrenheit Charlotte for cocktails, but mostly for the skyline views.

Then we walked over to Time Warner Arena. Jean was kind enough to purchase seats at the front of our row, so we had a little room for our cocktails.

Amy had a couple of opening acts. This first was her brother, a jazz musician. That was kind of weird and out of place. As first the music was good, then it started to sound like noise.

Her second opener was comedian Rachel Feinstein who I'd heard before and was pretty funny.

Then came Amy. Maya and I both love her, but weren't really sure what to expect because we've seen everything she's in, including her latest HBO schedule and we were worried about repeat jokes. That was not a problem! Maya and I only heard one joke we'd head before. Everything else was new material.

I think Maya and I both thoroughly enjoyed Amy's discussion about her recent nude photos. She was so frustrated that she was called "brave" by the media and she threaded that joke throughout her entire performance. Amy is a hard-core feminist and that was particularly fun for Maya and me to hear her rants. It was even more awesome to have the guys around me cheering in support.

What really surprised me was her decision to talk about gun control. She mentioned, by name, the two women who died while watching Trainwreck in Louisiana this summer. Mayci Breaux, 21, and 33 year-old Jillian Johnson inspired Schumer to learn more about gun control laws. "I don't want to take away anyone's guns," she said. "I just think maybe people from the terrorist watch list shouldn't have guns. Also, did you know that Stevie Wonder can just buy any gun he wants?"

After Amy's performance, she brought out her cabaret singing friend Bridget Everett. I almost didn't mention her because I wasn't sure what say. But Charlotte Observer columnist Theoden James had this to say, "Her only misstep was ending the show with a bizarre performance by a six-foot tall and fairly wide comic Bridget Everett, who spend 20 awkward minutes singing, dancing, instigating wardrobe malfunctions and sitting on one male audience member's face."

The dude sitting beside me was laughing non-stop and kept shouting out things like, "I don't know what is going on!"

Maya's official review: " I was shocked, I guess, since I didn't know what to expect. I laughed a lot. I don't know what that means."

Another running theme of Schumer's set was that she is on minute 14 of being famous. I couldn't possible disagree more. In what's turning into a golden age of comedy for women, I think Schumer has a lot more fuckable days in her future. And many more minutes on her fame clock.

People let me tell you about my best friend...

Winnie swimming on Feb, 8, 2015

Sunday, Feb. 8 was one of the most beautiful winter days I've ever seen. It was nearly 70 degrees. I spent my entire day taking Winnie and Daisy for swims and then sitting in the swing with my Kindle while they played. As I was toweling Winnie off after her second swim, I noticed that she looked particularly thin. She’d thrown up the day before, but she always had a sensitive stomach. I didn’t think much about it.

The next morning, she refused to eat and got sick again. I took her to the vet Monday. Tuesday, we were at a specialty vet and by Friday, my best friend was gone. 

On Saturday, her detailed reports from the specialist vet arrived in the mail. “Winnie is an 11 year-old Labrador Retriever,” the doctor wrote. “After anorexia and vomiting, we located a large mass is in her intestines and many other masses throughout her abdominal area. After review of cytology results, palliative care is recommended.”

All these things he wrote about her were true. She was 11. She was a Labrador Retriever. And sadly, she was very, very sick. But no piece of paper can ever describe what she truly was: My confidant, my therapist, my dance partner, my unrelenting source of unconditional love. My best friend.  I am going to try to write about who she really was and not the disease she had. She deserves that and I deserve to remember her that way.

This was in June 2004: the second time I met Winnie

When my parents surprised me with the gift of a puppy in 2004, I was 22 years old. I was about to graduate from college and I had no idea where I would work or live. I fell in love with her sweet face and her soft ears. I had to take her home with me immediately, wherever that home would be. The week after graduation, I loaded her into the back on my Malibu, secured in a special doggie seat belt. Before we hit the highway, she chewed her way out of the seat belt and peed in my car. I wondered what I’d gotten myself into and debated returning her to my parents.

That summer, I dropped her off at the vet to be spayed. That was my first taste of really being Winnie’s mom. I worried about her all day long. I couldn't stop checking my phone for messages and I was completely unable to focus on work. When I was finally able to pick her up, she walked on four unsteady paws out to the lobby, wobbling and blinking when the light hit her eyes. When she was finally able to focus her eyes on me, she started wagging her tail so enthusiastically she fell over. “Are you Winnie’s mom?” asked the exhausted vet tech.

Winnie sleeping her first night in our new apartment.

“Yep, that’s me,” I said and scooped her up off the floor. From the moment on, Winnie was mine and I was hers. I have a sign that says, "Home is where your dog is." And that was true. But we had some rough homes!We lived with my friend Misty in an apartment that was so awful, our neighbor downstairs not only abused his wife but threatened us too. One night, the neighbor came up to confront us. Misty was done with the conversation and tried to shut the door, but he stuck his foot in and wouldn’t leave. Winnie came running with a growl I’d never heard and grabbed his jeans with her strong teeth. He left immediately.

After a year, Misty and I decided to find a house to rent just so Winnie would have more room to play. Misty and I took Winnie house hunting with us. She stopped on the way to the car to pull the fringes of a blanket she’d been chewing out of her butt. This went on for 20 minutes. Misty and I had no clue what to do. She finally got it out and we got in the car to go look for houses. Misty put the car in reverse and turned her head to look backwards, her mouth opened slightly. Winnie recognized that as an opportunity and stuck her tongue right in Misty’s mouth. It was truly horrifying for Misty but I laughed until I couldn't breathe.

We did find a house that day and in hindsight, it was a pretty crappy house but to us at the time it was heaven. We didn’t have a fenced-in back yard but there was plenty of property including a creek that Winnie could enjoy.

Winnie loved Alex so much she gave him her chair.

One day, Misty and I went to Petsmart and came home with a tiny little yellow ball named Alex. He was an extraordinarily tiny puppy who’d been abandoned on the side of the road. Winnie immediately went into mommy mode and cared for Alex like he was her own. She loved and cuddled him when he needed it and attacked him like a snapping turtle when he got out of line. Winnie’s favorite form of discipline was to put Alex’s entire head in her mouth.

Winnie took her time to love Daisy, but when she did she was all in.

When Misty made the decision to move out, I decided Winnie would be lonely without a doggie companion. So, I found a yellow lab puppy from a breeder at a farm in the middle of nowhere.
                                                             My friend Elizabeth was visiting that

weekend and we hopped in the car with Winnie to go pick her up. I held Daisy in front of Winnie, Lion King-style and Winnie refused to look at her. She continued that refusal for two weeks. Daisy was weaned from her mother too soon and cried like a newborn all night long. Sometimes, around 2 a.m. Winnie would look at me and sigh deeply as if she couldn't believe what I’d done to us. I can’t quite put my finger on the exact moment things turned around, but one day I caught them cuddling and a sisterhood was formed. I think Daisy assumed from a very early age that Winnie was her mother.

Up until the day before she died, Winnie would grab Daisy by the scruff of her neck if she got out of line. If Daisy had my attention and Winnie wanted it, she’d simply shove her out of the way. One day, Daisy was lost for about 45 minutes and when we found her, Winnie lifted a paw and hit her in the face. Daisy never did it again.

Winnie and Daisy explore their new yard Dec. 17, 2007.

Over the years, Winnie became an amazing dance partner. After a year-long process of trying to find a house, I finally bought one mostly because it had a great backyard for the girls. I grabbed the keys from closing, drove to the old house and grabbed my girls and we unlocked the door to our first real home. After the girls took the backyard for a test run, the three of us danced together and celebrated as our footsteps echoed through the empty house.

Winnie loved to go places, meet people and play with other dogs, but her favorite thing was to be with me: the closer the better. Whether it was other dogs, another person, my Kindle, my laptop or my phone, she would push anything that came between us out of her way.  She followed me everywhere. If I walked to the mailbox, she came with me. She hung out right outside the bathroom while I showered. Even if I petted her for an hour straight, the second I stopped, she would immediately take her paw and prod me to pet her more. For almost two years, I had a job that allowed me to almost always work from home and she would beg and plead for my attention, especially though conference calls.

Together, Winnie and I grew up. She supported me through some major disappointments and losses and celebrated with me during some amazing times. Coming home to her sweet face and wagging tail always made me smile. Some days would be awful and I would lie on the floor with my head on her chest. She’d wrap a paw around me in comfort. She would get so upset if I cried and lick my tears while she snuggled with me. Winnie had the softest ears of any dog on the planet. Her Aunt Misty called her “The Velveteen Labrador.”

Even in 2014, Winnie was not excited about my Christmas Card.

Taking Christmas photos with Winnie, then Winnie and Daisy, became an annual tradition for me. Winnie hated it. I could always get amazing candid photos of her, but when I dressed her up and tried to make her pose, she would become a total diva and literally turn her back on me. For her first Christmas in 2004, I saw that my hometown Walmart was offering free pet photos with Santa. I loaded Winnie and Maggie, her sister and my parents’ dog, into the car along with my mom’s friend’s daughter Erica who was a very small 10 year-old girl at the time. We quickly realized the Santa thing was a scam. A plastic Santa was set up along with some faint poinsettias and a cardboard fireplace. 

Winnie reluctantly took her photo and Erica held her leash while I tried to pose Maggie. From behind the cardboard façade, I heard Erica begging for help. “Randi, she is so strong!” she shouted.

“OK, Erica,” I yelled. “Just hang on! We are almost done!” At that second, Winnie came crashing through the fake fireplace, dragging Erica on her stomach. “Whatever you do, Erica, do not let go of her leash!” I screamed.

I heard her Erica screaming, “Not the rocks, Winnie, not the rocks!” But Winnie did drag poor Erica right over a pile of rocks. To her credit, Erica never let go. Not even when her jeans ripped and her knees started to bleed. After that year, we started doing our Christmas card photos at home.

Winnie licking me on her last birthday.

Another annual tradition was the celebration of Winnie's birthday. Beginning on her first birthday, I would go online, find a doggie birthday cake recipe and make her a cake. She would have to wear a Winnie the Pooh birthday hat. Even though she always ripped it off, I managed to keep the same set of hats for 11 years. Alex and Daisy soon joined our birthday celebrations. On Feb. 4, 2015, I picked up a birthday cake for my girl from Barbara's K9 Cafe. I had no idea it would be her last birthday, but I am so glad she got a fancy cake for her last one.

Winnie, Daisy and Maggie on my parents' deck

My parents chose another black lab, Maggie, for themselves. There is no doubt in my mind that Winnie knew Maggie was her sister. They played together in a totally different, sister smack-down kind of way. Whenever we'd go visit my parents, I would ask if she wanted to see Maggie and she would run to the car. She stood up the entire visit and would jump out of the car and come looking for her sister.

Winnie, excited the snow is coming,takes a big sniff

Winnie loved fresh air. Even if it was just in our backyard, she would put her nose in the air and take these big, long sniffs of the air. If it was going to rain or snow, she’d get especially excited. Sometimes I would just ask, “What do you smell, Winnie?” She’d just look at me with that wise face and take another sniff. 

Winnie loved three things about the great outdoors: snow, water and rolling around in the grass. If it was snowing, she would adopt a child-like glee and run and leap. She would bury her head in the snow and roll around like a budding gymnast. Daisy wasn’t really into it, but Winnie would drag her along for the fun.

Winnie and Daisy enjoy the beach in 2009.

She also loved to swim. We were frequent visitors to Dragon Tail pond at Reedy Creek Park and she would swim and swim until she could find a good stick. She even went for a quick dip the day before she died. For my 29^th birthday, Misty treated us to a beach trip and Winnie was so happy to be in the ocean. She got so excited, she inhaled a ton of salt water and projectile vomited right on the beach. Misty and I just stared, not even sure how to begin cleaning this up. But it’s still one of my favorite memories.

Winnie rolled in the grass while I decorated for Christmas.

Winnie loved to roll in the grass. The dirtier she could get, the happier she was. She especially loved to roll down hills. Her favorite time to go for a good roll was right after a bath. She hated to be brushed, but was jealous when Daisy was being brushed, so she’d roll off and find a toy to try to distract Daisy. She didn’t want to be brushed but she didn’t want anyone else being brushed by her mommy either!

There are so many things that are special and wonderful that I don’t ever want to forget. I ended up making a list of them. Some things probably won’t mean much to anyone else, but they are things and memories that I want to treasure for the rest of my life. I've listed them here.

Winnie and Daisy Feb. 13, 2015 after a swim.

On Thursday, Feb. 12, I took the girls for a walk. That day, I felt like Winnie still had more time. Both vets felt like maybe I could get a few weeks. I’d planned a beach trip for her to see the ocean one more time. I was buying her prime ribs and rabbit meat that she refused to eat. Before our walk, I tried to give her the new anti-nausea and appetite stimulating medicine. We walked, she went swimming and let me take a few good photos of her with her sister. When we got back to the house, she threw up her pills. She hadn't eaten any solid food at this point for more than 48 hours.

I'm ashamed to say that at this point, I started freaking out. I sent Daisy outside and joined Winnie on the floor. I put my head next to hers, looked into those beautiful brown eyes and begged her not to leave me yet.  “I need you to give me some more time,” I told her, tears rolling down my cheeks. “I am not ready. I want to take you to the beach. I want more time. Please don’t leave me. You’re my best friend.”

About an hour later, I apologized to Winnie. I knew I was being selfish. “I promise you, I won’t let you suffer. I owe you that. You have been so good to me. I will never let you suffer. I was selfish to ask you to say. You just tell me when you are ready.”

For her entire life, Winnie had a special song: The Winnie the Pooh theme. I would sing it to her in happy times while we danced around, during sad times as we cuddled on the couch and sometimes just into her ear while she went to sleep. It was her lullaby and she knew it. I set her up on a pallet on my bed where she’d been sleeping all week and we settled in for the night.

On Feb. 12, I wrapped Winnie up in her Panthers blanket.

I softly sang that song to her as we drifted off to sleep. About an hour later, she started throwing up blood. After the third time, I called my mom around one a.m. and said, “I need you to come tomorrow.” She hit the road a few hours later and was at my house before 8 a.m.

I settled Winnie downstairs one a little pallet for her on the couch and wrapped her up in comforter. We stayed up all night, taking short 15 minutes naps. I spent the night singing to her, thanking her for what she meant to me and promising her that Daisy and I would be OK. 

Around 5 a.m., I finally realized that sleep just wasn't meant to be. I went upstairs to shower. When I got out, Winnie wasn’t waiting for me for the first time ever. But by the time I went to brush my teeth, I saw that old grey face watching me from around the corner. She was even standing up and, of course, wagging her tail. I could tell, though, that it took a lot out of her to come up the stairs. “It’s OK, baby,” I promised her. “You don’t ever have to do that again.” That was the last time Winnie came upstairs.

It felt like the sun would never rise and when it finally did, Mom arrived shortly after. We took turns cuddling and comforting her. I’d spent the last week telling her what she meant to me and thanking her for everything she’d done, so I basically sang to her until it was time to leave for the vet. We did fall asleep together one last time and Mom took a photo.

My last nap with Winnie

 Winnie was so quiet and still. Her breathing became very soft. There were several times I thought she might be gone already. At one point, she finally opened her eyes and I sighed with relief. 

Then I made Mom sit with her and I went outside and sobbed until I could get under control. My greatest wish was to give Winnie a peaceful death and I wanted to get it all out before we had to go to the vet. I didn’t want to cry and make her upset.

I went outside to move the car and make a pallet for her in the back.  I figured Winnie would probably need to be carried. Mom said Winnie struggled to get off the couch, so she helped her. Winnie got up to stand in the window just to watch me. Mom took a photo of that too, one I will always treasure.

Winnie watching me from the window one last time.

I took Winnie outside for a moment and walked with her around the house. One thing that’d really been bothering me was that she hadn't licked my face, not even my tears, for a few days. I sat down with her on the grass and explained what was going to happen and why. “I hope you understand why I am doing this,” I said. “It’s because I love you.” She licked my tear-soaked face.  I knew for sure I was doing the right thing.

We took one final photo in front of Winnie and me right outside her house. I thanked her for making our house a home. I rode in the back of my car with her one last time and she stood up the whole time, even taking a moment to poke her grey muzzle out the window. We love our vet’s office and the kind staff at Hickory Grove Animal Hospital and would recommend them to anyone who loves their pet.

The week leading up to that Friday had been frenzied and terrible. When the vet who did Winnie’s ultrasound came in to have a private conversation with me, I knew we were in trouble. “Are you Winnie’s mom?” he asked. And again, I said yes. We were in this together.

Three days after that, I ran into the vet alone to get her a temporary leash and pay the bill. The team had already set up our room. I got to lie with her on the floor. Mom brought in her comforter so she could have a nice warm place to relax. Before they took her back for her IV, I held her face in my hands and said, “Thank you for being my best friend. You are the love of my life.” Again she licked my face.  Mom thanked her for taking such good care of her daughter.

The vet tech came in with some Cheese-Its left over from her snack. Winnie started sniffing at them. “I am sure she won’t eat,” I said. “She just refuses.” That little rascal ate at least 20 Cheese-Its. I even got to give her a few.

And then it was time. Winnie laid down when I asked her to. She leaned her elbows on my knees. I didn’t want to cry. I prayed for the strength not to. Dr. Husky started giving her the injection. “Winnie says talk to me mommy,” she said.

Yes, I am Winnie's mommy. And will always be no matter if she's on this earth or not. I'd already told her everything I wanted her to know. I am who I am today because of her. What was there left to say? I held her face in my hands and put her mouth close to her mouth and started singing softly. I found out later the lyrics were wrong! But this is the song she knew.

“She’s Winnie the Pooh. Chubby little fuzzy, all stuffed with fluff, she’s Winnie the Pooh. Chubby little, fuzzy little bear.” The vet cried. My mom cried. The vet teach cried. I did not. I just kept singing. As I started the song again, she laid her head on my knee. She looked at me one last time and her eyes were filled with peace and understanding. And then she was gone. 

And now a week and a half later, I'm still shocked. How did this happen so fast? How are Daisy and I going to live without her? Daisy and I went to the beach this past weekend since Winnie couldn't. And it was the happiest we've both been since we lost Winnie.

Me and Daisy at Myrtle Beach Feb. 22.

But it’s been hard. Our house feels so empty. Daisy has changed so much. She’s matured and is much more affectionate with me. I think Winnie probably gave her a to-do-list for taking care of me and she’s done a great job. We've taken care of each other.

Winnie was cremated and my mom helped me order a plaque for her urn. “Anyone who says diamonds are a girl’s best friend never had a dog.” Winnie Davis was worth more than all the diamonds in the world. And I will always be her mommy.

Winnie, Daisy and me in Wilmington Nov. 2009