Wednesday, January 9, 2008

A Winters Day

On a day when the weather outside should be brittle, with the wind blowing, finding every open crevice in your clothes to chill you to the bone. Cold enough to steal the heat right off of your face, make your nose run, fingers go numb. Instead we find the weather tempered, down right warm. With the harsh wind blowing warm air around, tousling your hair, making the dogs' noses twitch with anticipation of something in the air to make them drool. A strong wind to make the bare tree branches rattle like cold, old bones telling their story of the life that they once lived. The sun warming the very ground that you walk on, making the grass try to turn green, the trees bud.

Yet through all of this amazing weather there you stand with deep wounds that refuse to heal over. The call came in with more bad news; we will loose the battle with yet another four legged companion. A companion that has shared your world for the last seven and half years, shared your bed, shared all the highs and lows of those bygone years. Though to look at her one would assume that she hadn't a clue. You see, that is part of her charm. You once again make the comment; "If she were human she would be one of those typical blonde jokes." Alas, her time to care for me, to smile and bounce around whilst at play, to push her cold, leaky nose into your hand, even repeatedly force herself upon you during times of sadness. Her ability to 'sense' your moods. Even the ability to enjoy life from a dream seems all but gone. Now it's our turn to force ourselves upon her, to carry her to the communal bed with her brother and dad, to wipe her leaky nose, leaky mouth. Rub her swollen, achy knees and feet. Our turn to gently force her medicine into her mouth.
Once more, this time has come for you to watch the fall of a companion, one that proved the wisest choice of all at the shelter those years ago. Patiently, anxious, fearful of every cough, groan, snore. Watching as she turns down the food that has comforted her in recent months, feeling helpless, torn. Torn between letting her eat what she wants, not her medical diet. Torn between the need to take over and force her to get better, versus letting her go easily.

Once again I am reminded of the valuable lesson learned earlier this past year; pay attention to whats in front of you, not whats to come.

Good words to say, much more difficult once you have to live them.

So, even though the weather outside is rather warm for the season, no cold, bitter wind to rattle your bones, rather a warm, gentle wind caressing your face, making the bare tree branches clatter together like old bones telling the stories of yesteryear, You are waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.

You go through all of this whist in the midst of your own troubles, the doctor visits for yourself, the tests. The waiting to see what the proper course of treatment will be. Though, you look, think: I would like to do nothing else but take care of her every moment of every day, though, you know that this would be impractical at best. After all, you are human, she is a dog. Not a child. For you, those words are hollow, empty of the feeling that you seem to crave at this moment. For you, the line between child and pet have blurred to the point where it is virtually indistinguishable. You have long been in the habit of treating those pets as if they were your own children. For you, there is no other way.

If it were not tragic, one might laugh at those emotions that you have, for there are people out there in worse positions, more pain. There are those that you pray for each day that are faced with losing a beloved child from something that cannot easily be put into few words. On a day like this might prove to be a wonderful story to whisper to those beloved children. How the sun shone, the warmth of the day made other children run, jump, skip and play. How you saw dogs frolicking, the laughter of children. Perhaps given them inspiration to get better, comfort them towards the end.

You are angry, saddened, fearful. Angry that this has to happen to such a wonderful creature that seems to be placed in your care by God himself. Saddened you must give this creature back, and fearful that you might have done something to perpetuate this condition, not done enough, or must make that final decision.

So together you and your spouse comfort one another, take out some of those emotions on each other. Share the blessing that might very well turn out to the last months, weeks.

Together you walk in the warm sunshine, feel the wind, listen to the stories of the bone trees.
Cling to one another, find comfort in each other. Share stories of yesteryear. Smile.