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Be Like Sadie Poo

Written by: Amanda Henderson


It's Friday, Feb 18, 2022 at 12:28 pm.


One week without you.

It’s a quiet feeling I’ll reluctantly get used to, maybe, someday.


I miss the stirring in the corner. That sound of restlessness that brings a tiny, ten pound white and tan wriggling, happy, sassy shih tzu shooting out from behind the ottoman to demand something.


A treat?


Outside time?


Dinner?


A quick rub down and mere acknowledgement?


I’d gladly do whatever you asked of me every. single. day.


How’d we get so lucky to have you in our lives? Well, here’s how it all began.


One fateful day in September of 2011, our kids asked politely if they could bring a dog into our home. I mean, it was polite, until it turned into tears and then I was hooked. Like always. I may act tough, but, I’m a pile of mushy optimism inside and I’m pretty sure they all knew it. Soon after, a fuzzy white cloud transpired into our living room. A tiny, vibrant, confident four-legged creature looked right at my home and said, “Okay, this will do.” It sounded like “ah, woo woo woo woo woooo” to our ears, but it was pretty obvious exactly what she meant.


At that time, I was in and out of countless dr. offices and many different medical facilities from Iowa City to Rochester, MN, and I was still struggling to find answers to the complex medical issues I was experiencing on a daily basis. I was no longer able to walk normally- my legs only take me so far, and then they stop- it was all pretty shocking at the time. My husband was relegated to shower assistant, clothing buttoner, feeder and waterer of all living things in our house, including myself, and carted me to many of these appointments and to work and back home. To say we were picked up right out of our lives and transported to a whole different way of living is an understatement, and one we fervently denied being in. We even purchased a life insurance plan for me, since things were looking grim enough to need to plan for a shorter future. So, what in my right mind was I doing bringing another mouth to feed into this mess? Well, here’s how that fits in to this story..

Sadie Poo Henderson, born in 2009, at some point, we think, was a stray of sorts. She lived on the streets and our kids helped rescue her. Then, to my ultimate surprise and delight, that seemed to give Sadie the license to rescue others. Sadie was what we would assign to humans, a people person. She walked right up to everyone she ever met and lightly placed her forepaws onto their pant leg, looked longingly up with her brown, beautiful endless pools of wisdom and understanding for eyes, and said “hi! I love you”. Or, as we could hear, “woo woo wooo”. That was that. She blessed so many people, even pup doubters, with her simple, elegant presence and captured a tiny piece of their hearts forever. I had the pleasure of watching her do this over, and over, and over again. It isn’t just what she did for others that held her dearest to me, though- it’s also how she saved me from my life of desolate disability.

I didn’t choose this lifestyle- in fact, I did so many things to stop this disease from ending up this way, I can’t even name all of the efforts. Here I am, quietly resigned to the life I lead, and grateful for the many blessings I find weaving in, out and around it every day. Sadie was one of the biggest- she was such an inspiration to keep moving forward. She also has two “sisters”- yes, I found my way to adopting two other wayward four-legged souls, and am so very glad we did. Sadie started it, though. She alpha-ed them with her indignant and take charge attitude, and they let her. It was a source of endless enjoyment and entertainment to watch them all collaborate together. I can’t even figure out how the dynamics worked, but, it was an amazing process and something to look forward to being a part of. Boo and Lola are also struggling to find their way without her, but we are figuring it out together.

Last Friday, Sadie had a difficult day of trying to leave this world- it was like her time was up, and she knew it, but she was reluctant to let us all go. At least as much as we were reluctant to give her up, too. She did her job in our home very well, and I am so proud of her. A piece of my heart will be tattooed forever with her paw prints. My life is forever altered by her loyal and steadfast companionship from our town all the way to Texas, Connecticut, Minnesota, Missouri- there’s not enough hours in a day to name all of the places she was so excited to visit with us- some for doctor appointments, others for family visits. She was delighted to go along for the ride.

As I type through tear stained glasses, willing the anguish and the happiness through my body, into my fingertips, and onto the keyboard to tell the fervent story of how a tiny little dog ultimately saved me instead of the other way around, I want to take this moment to express how very deeply disability can effect a person’s life. This is something I feel very passionate about, but am hesitant to talk about with people who don’t experience it themselves. Judgement is a tough pill to swallow along with the handfuls of pills we often already have to take every day. There are studies and articles all over the internet outlining the concepts and theories of scientists and families all over the world, and how life changing and stress inducing disability can be. Yet, it is vastly misunderstood by the “well” community. We’ve often been a part of society and have been playing by those rules, so getting kicked out and forgotten about is sometimes a daily chore to keep the mind on top of. Accepting vast changes, from income to physical and mental adjustments, can be mind boggling when you’re also trying to manage whatever illness or injury placed you on the sidelines to begin with. Often times, these illnesses are simply managed, and as time rolls on they worsen. This creates a new reality to have to accept regularly, as physical limitations become more prevalent with each passing day. Lots of people often think, if they need something, they’ll call. I’m here to say, that is generally not the case. From my experience, and the experience of so many that I’ve seen and reached out to on internet support groups, we are not only a forgotten group of people, but we aren’t sitting on the sofa eating bon bons and watching family feud waiting for a commercial break to think about calling a friend. We are caught in a trap- one we rarely have enough wherewithal to climb to the tops of the holes we’ve gotten dug into to take a peek and see what’s going on out there. And, oh, where did everybody go?

I understand, I do, I get it. I’m the queen of making excuses for everyone, including myself. I’m also great at believing them, and I’m fine with that- I'm severely introverted, so it tends to work out for me, most of the time. Although, some people may take it personally that they don’t receive a phone call from someone sitting at home. But, hey, who on earth is lining up to add confrontation to the day? Not me. Not it. I’ll deal with it. Except, there’s this tiny dog. Her name was Sadie Poo Henderson, and she said she was my friend and she told me I’d never be alone and she’d love me no matter what. (Ah woo woo wooooo woo woooooo..) She taught me the value of acceptance, and of taking a bad situation and turning it into a life worth living. (And she’s got me covered because Lola, who was brought here for her, is kissing all my tears as I type.) But, you know, not everyone has a Sadie Poo (and a Lola and a Boo), and every day is not a Sadie Poo can fix this kind of day. Not all struggles bring folks out of their shells and to a phone, and not all people are comfortable enough in their own illnesses to ask for help. Having an illness that will not go away is often a barrier, and normals eventually, slowly stop acknowledging such hardships because it is so misunderstood. No one is perfect, and not everyone requires companionship as often as some, depending on personality and temperament. (Did you know that people can be left to their own devices for so long that they find it difficult, if not impossible, to join in the human race any longer?) If you are helping out grandma or calling your friend who is too sick to work, I commend you. Please understand what a big deal that is, and learn why so you can share with others. Likewise, if you are dealing with chronic illness I hope your social needs are met on a level in which you are comfortable with- be it from a dog, bird, or person calling or even texting once in a while. To those who want to help, I encourage you- ask the tough questions, be interested, care on their level. Let’s just try to see each other where we’re at, not where we think each other might be.




Some days, timing can be off or the dryer is on the fritz and the lunch was burned and the cat puked in my slipper and I couldn’t get to the phone and I forgot to call you back. In all busy lives in the fast lane it can be hard to find the time for others. Think about the amount of time you spend regaling acquaintances with stories of your daily life, and try to remember there are folks out there who only make it to doctor appointments on a regular basis, so they may not have their hours of communicating in for the week, month or even year. Remember Harold in accounting who had to take early retirement for a massive stroke, and Luella down the street who used to have a beautiful garden but severe arthritis took away the ability to florify the neighborhood, and Susan whose child is sick so she never comes to the gatherings any more? The list is endless, but you don’t have to walk a mile in their shoes to understand what it’s like to live outside of a normal human existence - just listen to Sadie Poo - she says it best - Ah, woo woo woo woooo. Translation, I had an important job of taking care of my humans, and for some reason, Amanda was always home with me. We had the best life.


Be like Sadie Poo.






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