Remember me when you are happy,Keep for me one little spot,In the depth of thine affectionPlant a sweet forget-me-not.

= SECOND CHANCES =

A story offering proof that angels exist to watch over us.

"We who surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached. Yet, we would live no other way, and we cherish memory as the only certain immortality."-author unknown

I didn't plant them there. They started to grow last September. Maybe it was October. Just a tiny cluster of leaves ... and once they were dug out by an animal in the night and I tucked them back into the ground and worried for their survival. Something said, protect them. When the ground froze in winter, I placed a piece of broken pot over, to cloak them. And still while they mostly appeared to die, I couldn't stop believing in them.

Spring came. I removed the pot shard covering them during the day to let the warmth in. Up unfurled tiny bright green leaves. As the days passed, the tiny plant grew stronger and stood tall in herald next to the step by my door.

I became forgetful that the tiny plant was there. I walked by it so often that I no longer paid it much mind as I passed by. But still it grew as if it had a mission. A small stand of forget-me-nots all alone. It was if it were waiting to remind me of something. On March 21st it bloomed. Clear and blue.

Come May still it bloomed. It bloomed still strong on into the heat of the summer. Even while the other forget-me-nots in the surrounding garden had given up, this one grew stronger.

One day the phone rang and my friend delighted me with the very news I had so long been waiting for ... A very special package would be arriving at the airport soon and I was to be sure I was there on time to pick it up. I was given the day and hour, the flight number and made to repeat it. It was important I not be late. Bring water, some towels and a baby blanket she said.

I knew immediately what would be flying here for me to meet that day.

When I finally set the phone into its receiver, I was shaking with excitement. I had tried to shove this day from my mind for fear it would never happen. I went outside and sat on the front step trying to calm down. Next to me stood the little blue flowers smiling back at me through my tear blurred vision.

My friend had remembered me. She had said that if it was meant to be, it would happen. If he lived, he was to be mine. She had remembered that I wished so hard for this that I sometimes could not sleep. I would get up in the middle of night just to look at his tiny face in the picture she had sent taken the day he was born. I would talk to him into the night air and tell him to try very hard ... That someone loved him. Live I pleaded to no one but the dark. Please, I begged him. Live.

I would fall asleep with him in my thoughts. The chances were remote he could survive. He was too small. He couldn't eat enough. His tiny body didn't have the strength. My friend shared that she was told, "don't get your hopes up ... There is no chance." But she wouldn't give up. And although I was not there, neither would I.

I once sent a little blue blanket to him. I slept with it in my arms for two nights before I wrapped it in tissue and put it in the post so it would smell of home. Give it to him I asked my friend in the note. Tell him it's from his forever mommy. I didn't ever hear if he got it ... My friend and I had agreed not to talk about him. Just in case. But I had to hold onto the idea that there was a chance. No matter how small.

That morning I drove to the city, I ran out of the door before it was even light brushing by the little plant near the door almost stepping on it's little blue flowers as I hurried past. I got to the airport early to watch and see if I could spot the plane carrying my heartbeat as it touched down. I wanted to be there the moment he was. Waiting for that plane made me nearly mad. Checking the flights arriving. Unfolding and refolding his paperwork that was in my hands. Waiting. Getting another drink of water. Pacing. Waiting. Looking out of the windows. Watching. Standing at the VIP cargo desk. Shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Still waiting. Camera ready.

"Flight 307 is disembarking at gate 20,"
I hear crackle over the speaker.

I turn and am staring towards gate 20 ... at the door. It seems to be a mile away now. The door opens but nothing else happens. No one is coming out. It is behind a thousand guards or I would run to it and on into the plane.

My eyes do not blink.

Then from where I stand at the desk I see an attendant from the flight walking towards me carrying by a handle, a package covered with big yellow stickers that proclaim the contents in bold black letters. The attendent is grinning from ear to ear and carrying this treasure with care. It is precious and she knows it.

I freeze in place. My hands are folded in front of my face, my thumbs covering my mouth and touching the tip of my nose. I am sure I am going to faint because I've stopped breathing. The package is set at my feet as the man at the desk has been pointing to me the whole time chuckling, calling to the attendent, "She's been here before you took off. Waiting."

"Paperwork can wait a moment", someone is saying in a voice that sounds far far away to me ... I am already on the floor & have the door to the package open digging inside through the fluffs of shredded paper. Something soft touches my hand and my heart skips. I realize it is the little blue blanket I had sent so many weeks before. As I push it aside suddenly another something soft brushes me & I am face to face with my dreams. He wiggles from the paper and I gather him up in my arms nearly falling backward as I do.

I am covered with a million baby corgi kisses and yet somehow manage to pull myself away from his sweetness. I hold him out to see the rest of this little miracle. Four tiny white paws, pink padded and swimming in mid-air squirms ... I turn him around and there is the cutest little bunny butt I have ever seen! I commence checking ... Black and red, one ear up, one ear down ... Big brown eyes. And yes, even at this age I can see the faerie saddle of his ancestors. His ruff is white. And across it, around his neck I notice something dangling from a little blue collar like a Christmas ornament. He wears the heart-shaped tag with his message as if it were on his sleeve. When I read it I start to blubber and smash him to my face to get more kisses which he wildly supplies.

I note through my tears the man at the counter and the attendant exchanging glances that clearly question my sanity. I don't care.

For on the tag reads one sentence of four words ... and below it, his name in bold.
It simply announces: .: i love you too :.

:: CHANCE ::

But then ... I wake up. Sitting up, tears streaming down my face I try to focus on the clock to see the time. It is still dark out and I have been dreaming again. Dreaming of the little puppy that almost was. The baby that didn't make it and took yet another piece of my heart with him when he left.*

My thoughts are interrupted by the clicking of little toenails across the wood floor coming to my bedside. Something warm and wet is licking my bare toes and then, bounce! Up onto the bed are two white paws and a black nose pressed softly into my leg nudging me. I slide onto the rug immediately enveloped by a pair of big dark brown eyes of understanding. The head that they belong to, lays into my lap and sighs.

It is Caila. She wants me to know she is there and not knowing what is wrong tries her best to comfort me.

Caila Fae ... my sweet corgi princess.
Another angel.

One Sunday morning on my doorstep ... Just when I thought the Faeries had forgotten me, Caila appeared. The Faeries knew just when the time was best. I should have trusted.

My heart had been so overwhelmed by sadness. One tiny life had somehow found it's way to me, briefly ... And that tiny life had danced through mine changing it forever.

Chance tried. Tried so hard to stay forever with me, but it was his fate to return to the faeries. He is there now with them at the rainbow bridge, being played with and is one of the fae children's ponies (a favorite of theirs I am sure) ... pulling a tiny cart and letting them ride his back with glee. He is happy. If you listen carefully when you are in the woods ... If you close your eyes and clear your thoughts, you might hear the little silver bells he wears on his harness. They chime in rhythm of the fae child's laugh as they bound through the forests and glades racing the other carts.

The world seemed so sad for me ... I tried to believe things happen for a reason, but my heart was caught up in little blue blankets & I couldn't catch my breath this time. How could this happen I asked the universe? Why give me something only to take it away?

Alas ... The Faeries saw my heavy heart. And then ... Just when I thought I could not stand it any longer came the note. Tucked into the door by the Forget-me-nots. A note that read: "I found a dog for you. We pick her up at 11:30 Tuesday. Kate."

I held my breath.
And Tuesday came.

Proof that faeries exist.
They sent me one of their own to mend my heart.

. :: can you find the faerie pony? .::. can you spy her there? .::. where's caila? :: .

She wears the golden bell of the royal faerie court. The Queen must think highly of me to have sent one of her own fay corgyn. And I promise (should she be reading this) Your Majesty ... I will not let you down. Caila is indeed a special treasure. And here she is safe. Borrow her any time. Come to visit. But please I beg, return her home to me by sunrise as you always do.

You see! Have patience. Believe. TRUST in the universe to know the right time & believe in (the strength of) that silken like thread that connects us all together. Just because you can't always see it, doesn't mean it isn't there.

::SIGH::

*The Sadest of Details:
My Little Prince, Sir Chance ... My Little Bunny Butt, died in the quiet hours of the morning only weeks after he arrived to fill my heart and arms. He had developed a barely decernable breathing problem over several days, but as nothing could be found and he wasn't in any distress, the vet was unconcerned that it was anything serious. Possible allergies it was labled. Chance was sent home with directions to simply keep watch for changes over the next few days and to bring him back should it begin to worsen. Call if needed the vet said. Don't worry said he.

Chance stopped breathing in the night. We rushed to the hospital running every light. But it was too late.

Our tiny ward had left peacefully in his sleep as I held him cradled in my arms wrapped in his little blue blanket. It is unknown why he died. No pain. No apparent distress (but for mine). No abnormality was ever found to stop his tiny body from staying for years. Even the vet was in tears when he told us. For he couldn't find a reason why Chance had been taken. One tiny pupper in such a short time had somehow wrapped himself around every heart he'd ever met. Now left behind was a wake of sorrow for he was so loved by those now without him.

(Perhaps I should interject in somewhere: Chance was born with impaired vision. He loved the sun but had to stay in the shade or else he could not see. Chance was nearly blind ... A genetic hicup. Chorine in the gene pool. But it had nothing to do with his death. And if you had met him, until I told you -- IF i told you, you'd never known he was any different than any of the other puppers he was playing with. Because he didn't see anything wrong with being different, he never was. He saw everything clearly with his heart.)

All I can believe (and I need something to believe & cling too) is that Chance was only ever meant to touch us like colorful a little butterfly, and then flutter on to brighten another world. Never to stay longer than he did, as we were only a moment on his way to something far more wonderful. Perhaps we were ... Perhaps I was the reason he came. He didn't want to leave this world before he was sure I'd be fine. He needed to give me a message. Was I listening? Caila's coming he was whispering. You'll be Ok. Listen for her. Watch for her. Believe in things not seen. Don't give up ... Treasure the gift of life. You never know how long it will last.

A lesson?
I don't yet know exactly but I know that he would have been a perfect vessel to carry such. His life was a near flawless moment he left behind for us to keep forever. As much as it will long leaden my heart to think of him ...
For that moment in sunshine with us, I am thankful.

"A butterfly lights beside us, like a
sunbeam...and for a brief moment it's glory
and beauty belong to our world...
but then it flies on again, and although
we wish it could have stayed,
we are so thankful to have seen it at all."
-- Author unknown

Chance's body now rests in the garden. Shaded under the big purple Buddleia davidii (a butterfly bush) he so loved the best of all. The one that first gets the morning sun by the corner gate. Why he loved that piece of sun is only a guess ... Covered with colorful butterflies ... Dancing in the streams of light just over a small wet nose to make a puppy smile. I still believe it was the one patch of sun where he could see everything perfectly. It has long been known to be a place where the faeries gather in a garden. Perhaps that drew him there. A portal to his fae world? Could he hear the faerie children playing? Did he miss them? Sometimes while I am by that spot in the garden I know Chance is there nearby playing, because I can (albeit faintly) hear the bells on his lead as he runs in games with the fae children. Just a veil away. And when I listen very carefully with my heart, I can hear the gathering of faeries cheer him onward;
Go Chance! Go! Good Boy!