My Dog

Each day, I look into Mickey’s face many times. In the morning, when I tell him to get out of bed–so I can make the bed; when I leave for work each day and wish, each and every day, I could take him with me; coming home from work and barely able to look into his face because he’s so exuberant–his face a blur as he races?around the apartment so happy?I’m home; in the car, when we’re at a stoplight and I pet his ears and spend stoplight moments enjoying his utter cool and beauty.

But, recently, when I look into that face I love, I see more gray hair (a lot more). I see a twinge of pain in the middle of our runs when he slows down, limping a little. I stop, looking into his face, and see the heart and spirit of a puppy whose 10 year-old-body doesn’t quite feel like a puppy anymore.

My heart feels fear and pain about loss I have not yet faced but which I know will come. My dog is my everything and I wonder how this happened. My life, for most of my life, has been?full and blessed with the love of friends and family, as well as great fun and adventure. But somehow, events transpired and unfolded over the past several years, and my life is much different than it was, or than I expected it to be at this time. And, my dog is my everything.

An?unexpected crossing of paths (actually moments) between me and a lanky black puppy in 2006, (that redefined my life, even more than it was being redefined at that time), has landed me in the place of being head over heels in love with a dog who I will outlive, and yet, who gives me the heart to live?and the example?of how to do it with zest, passion and joie de vivre.

I choose to live in the present, for the most part. Silver dog hair on my car seat, as well as?on my dog’s pretty face, propel?me to the future. A place I really don’t want to see?without him.


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