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Flicka Doodle Doo

January 10, 2011 - Theresa Proudfit
My friend Kristen, her kids and their dog came from Detroit to visit me the day after Christmas. She was in town about 13 hours before she went sledding at City Park, broke her back and was rushed to Green Bay for surgery where she had 5 fusions done. The chaos that surrounded that incident could someday become a novel (that Kristen and I will probably write together) but the story I'm telling is about Flicka.

Flicka is Kristen's 8 month old retriever/lab mix puppy that was left behind. Kristen's dad had her children flown back to Detroit but Flicka stayed in Iron Mountain with my family. Originally we thought we would just have her for a day or two but the recovery from the surgery took much longer and getting Flicka home wasn't as easy as planned. Having two dogs already we figured a third wouldn't be too much trouble, but soon realized she is a puppy. Soft and furry, sweet and sassy Flicka Doodle I started calling her, because she was awake with the roosters every morning, was center of attention for the last two weeks.

Having a tad more freedom than usual Flicka destroyed toys, kept everyone awake, disrupted my peaceful morning walks with the other dogs and tripped me several times a day as she followed me around the house. The first couple days I was brought to tears over the stress of a third dog . Then I visited Kristen in Green Bay. One of my best friends laying in a hospital bed with months of recovery in front of her and I realized what a very small task taking care of Flicka really was.

Kristen finally made it home after 11 days in the hospital and really wanted her dog back. I was not able to drive downstate this weekend so I found her a ride home. (A big thanks to Ian Sherman for reuniting Flicka with her family yesterday) As I watched Ian and Flicka drive away that morning I started sobbing. I was already missing that little pistol. I felt much better after hearing Flicka was home safe and sound and Kristen had her family back together, but I'm still watching my step, afraid of tripping over that sweet ball of fur, and my morning walks are much more peaceful than I would like them to be. I will miss that silly Flicka Doodle Doo and hope to see her again soon. But not too soon.


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