Moe mai rā, Whero

Whero, the 6 year old rednose pitball was euthanised this morning.  He spent his last moments surrounded by his ever-loving family. 

Whero has been in our family all of his life.  His daddy moved to Australia when he was just a wee pup and Whero was left with his 2nd daddy, Terry. 

Terry was a bit of a koretake dad too.  He kept going to jail too many times and Whero was left to be raised by his Aunty Jess, and Uncle Hayden.  Nash, a little squeaky Maltese has been his playmate and friend most of his life.  

Aunty Chakani would pick up both Nash and Whero and take them for walks all the time.  Whero was so used to his aunty, he'd jump the fence every time he heard her car coming along the road. 

Last night and this morning she visited with him.  Whero tried to rush to her but only his front legs would move.  He doesn't know what is going on. All he can do is try to crawl to give Chakani kisses and cuddles.

We will miss you, Whero.  Nash will probably miss you the most. You gave us friendship, laughter and love in everything you did. 

I can still see you racing through my house when you saw Tinkerbell, our cat.  You scared the heck out of her! You left a trail of destruction trying to get to her.  Poor Tinkerbell, I don't think she'll miss you - you almost killed her. :(

Even when you were a hōhā - like running away. I'm sure everyone on the FB lost and found page know you by heart from all the searching we did for you.

It was no problem to you - you didn't know the fuss you called.

Whero contracted a spinal disc disease. No one knows when or how he contracted the disease but it has become a wee bit too sudden for us.  He was paralyzed on Friday and the vet tells us he is in pain.  Euthanisation is Whero's most compassionate option because even if he was taken to a specialist, there is no guarantee that he will get better.  The tears in Whero's eyes tell us how much pain he is in.

His home family have arrived home from Australia yesterday and last night he spent his last night with those who love him.

 Moe mai rā Whero, you beautiful beautiful boy.

We love you.  We will forever love and miss you.

WHERO  

Not your time...

Looking back to when we were blessed with you.  You came to us with nothing but immediately gave to us everything.  Instant love, affection and innocence.

You needed us as we needed you.  You loved us as we loved you.
You depended on us and we protected you.

Today you needed love like never before.
You needed comfort and protection.
You needed to know it wasn't your fault.
It happens.

It just wasn't your time.

Photo is word

When a picture doesn't paint a thousand words but provokes thought.

You can't stop the heartache

If only...

I'm sorry this has happened to you again.
I'm sorry I couldn't comfort you.
I'm sorry I couldn't take the pain from you.
I'm sorry it was yours alone to bear.
I'm sorry this hurts.
I'm sorry you are not yet a mother.
I'm sorry my baby girl.
I'd take it from you if I could.
If only I could.
If only...

I made a game

Kātahi te tangata mātau rawa atu ko ahau!  Kikī katoa tēnei i te whakahihi me tāku mōhio me pehea te whakamahi kēmu i runga i te rorohiko nei!  Mīharo ahau ki ahau anō.  Pai kare!

Aukei, ko ērā noa iho taku hiahia - ki te pāpaho ki te ao - kua oti i ahau tētahi mahi pai rawa atu. A, nāku anō i mahi!  Yeyah!!

Are you proud?

Watching Marae this morning on youth offenders that are in 'lock-up' and the question was posed, "Are you proud?"  He had learned to play chess and while his group was placed third in a school competition, he was selected to go on to compete in a National competition. There was a bit of a pause and then a little laugh before 'Ricardo' (not his real name) replied, "Ah yeap." A beat skipped, a breath taken, a memory returned. 

I was taken back to times when people I know (and love) have paused when asked this question or when praised.  Even I've done that. His identity may have been withheld and the focus only on a blurry silhouette but what he did was so familiar - he leaned back and let out an uncomfortable laugh before responding.  It was as if he was expecting to be punished or hit for feeling good about himself - for acknowledging his achievements. He didn't seem to know how to respond but he didn't want to sound dumb either, so he just says, "Oh yeap." He was probably hoping there wouldn't be a 'why' after that because that might really test him.

I know that feeling and it is uncomfortable ... but why do we feel like that? I can't tell everyone's story or suggest that I know why we do what we do so I'm just going to stick to my story which is the same anyway as those who are close to me.

We were raised without compliments. We were told to do things and we did them. "Go get the wood, do the dishes, make the beds, look after your sisters, bring the washing in, stir the pot," the list goes on. I don't remember hearing praises for doing any of those things, let alone for doing them well.  I just got the, "Have you finished, yet? Did you wipe the benches too? Well, you took your time. Now, go do ... "  There are no praises in any of that. But the times when I didn't listen properly or did the task slowly or wrong, or did something else instead - the consequences of those memories are ingrained.  They're the memories that we shouldn't remember but we do. 

It started with the yelling. Then the tongue would fold up between clenched teeth and a hand would rise up above their head. That's when I knew it was time to shut my eyes tight, lean back and hug my body  - protect myself and hope it's over quickly.  A lot of the time when I was young, my hands would try to protect my arse from the boot that was going to send me across the room but if I saw the hand raised, I knew it was my head I had to protect. I got such bad headaches after sometimes that I'd sleep and wake up to another hiding for 'being lazy'.  Yeah, I remember those. Move fast to do things.  Do it right or feel the consequence. Flinching and and cowering became almost instinctive behaviour.

I had to learn how to act when I received praise or compliments. Just knowing how to recognise a compliment, what they sounded like and how to accept them was really hard learning for me.  I was in an institution at the time.  I didn't realise that I was negative towards compliments until someone asked me why I hit people for saying nice things to me. I was 20.  It made me think. Compliments were foreign to me. My feelings towards them was that people were either lying, sucking up or just getting smart. It wasn't natural. Well, it didn't feel natural.  I learned in that institution how to recognise a compliment and how to accept one. The giving of compliments was easier once I accepted them myself.  WOW!  What an eye-opening experience!

This is the feeling I resonated with when I watched Ricardo pause, laugh and lean back.  He was not comfortable with the question, 'Are you proud?' and did not know how to respond. He has probably not had enough people praise him and tell him good, positive things about himself.  He has some learning to do.  I hope the facility staff recognises what Ricardo did and fills his world with praise. Here's the kumara who needs someone to tell others how sweet he is because he won't.  You can never go wrong with something so right.

Mā te kōrero ka tika.  Mā runga i te manaaki me te aroha ka mau.

When my head fills up....

And I can't think how to empty it I talk. Silently.