It Has Been One Year

…since I was spared by a moment of grace.

(If you want to read the story click here: A Moment Of Grace: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 3.5, Part 4.)

The summary is that a year ago I was hammered by a series of unfortunate events, including but not limited to exhaustion, illness, the death of loved ones, and eventually the near certainty that my beloved dog was going to die. None of these alone would break me but in sequence, with no rest or recovery between, it was crushing. Especially the dog. I was in no shape to handle that event at that time. Not everyone can understand the bond between a man and a good dog (and not everyone gets the blessing of having a good dog). It’s a two edged sword. It comes with the knowledge that you’ll outlive the dog; that’s part of the price.

When the world was darkest, in what I call a moment of grace, my dog got up from where I thought it had lain down to die. Death seemed a done deal but it simply didn’t happen. It’s as if the dog knew it had more work to do and so it didn’t leave me. It recovered and has been with me ever since. That moment, roughly a year ago, was a turning point. I struggled to the couch, very sick, and slept under the ever watchful eye of my dog. That’s when the fever broke and I began to recover. It took us both a few weeks to properly get back on our feet. But that was the moment when things went from decline to recovery.

Knowing the clock is ticking I’ve been extra nice to my dog. It’s retired now. Security duties it once handled are back on my shoulders. I don’t mind. I give it treats and am increasingly lax with discipline. That which was not allowed to the young pup is forgiven for the honored elder. I carefully administer medicine, treats, and lavish it with attention. Walks are whenever it wants for as long as it wants. The dog is old, the time will come… soon.

I hope, when I’m old, people treat me as well as I treat my dog.

Rewind many years: When the dog arrived to our house as a rolly polly little puppy we set it up for it’s first night without its brothers and sisters. This is always a hard time for a new puppy. It whined. One of our kids, God bless him, insisted that he be there for the little creature. I concurred. The kid slept on the floor in his tiny fireman sleeping bag near the puppy. The puppy calmed and slept. It was the sweetest thing.

It didn’t take long for the puppy to adjust. Only a night or two and the whining had passed. We established that the dog sleeps on the ground floor, the better to guard the door. That’s its domain and it has patrolled with dedication. I sleep better knowing anyone who enters my door at night will encounter 120+ pounds of guardian dog before I step in and take over. It’s a good arrangement.

Now the kid is much older. He is a fine young man, full of potential and charting his own course. The dog is very old, having already lived its lifespan; and performing admirably every step of the way as it did it.

Last week, there was a thunderstorm. The dog has never liked thunder, a threat for which it cannot ascertain the source. This time, the dog limped up the stairs, slowly, negotiating each step as only the elderly do. I heard it struggle, listening carefully in case I needed to help. It came to my bedside “there’s thunder, I don’t like it”.

A few years ago I’d have been firm “you sleep on the ground floor, get back on post”. No longer. I reassured it and let it sleep right there. It fell asleep with my hand on its head. Comically, it snored.

Full circle; my son reassuring it as a puppy,  many years of solo patrols, and now snoring  within inches of my bed. The cycle of life is beautiful.