Forgive me if you cant hang through this, but I have to let it out. As a doggy/kitty Daddy, I can barely manage when a friend posts on FB the loss of a fuzzy son/daughter. I often look briefly then click I dont want to see this because I simply cant manage the emotion as I put myself in that spot. This afternoon I came down off the hill on Deer Island with Rayna into the parking lot to see a guy from the dog park Ive known since my first days in Winthrop standing alone in the parking lot, looking lost. Hi Tom, hows it going? I wish I could say Ive been better said the Winthrop Fire Fighter, who was Dad to Ben, a beautiful German Shepherd that Rayna was friends with. Dark sunglasses on, I could see him struggling as he told me how he not three hours ago, had to let his Best Friend of 10.5 years go due to horrible cancer. This tough, salt of the Earth guy, reduced to tears, having found someone to listen to his tale of sadness, steadily let it pour out of him. Limping three weeks ago. Thought it was arthritis. Vet had bad news. I give him a month. It was three weeks. I tried to tell him I had empathy for his situation, although I barely do (Rayna the First was lost as a puppy to kidney failure, so its not quite the same), and I explained how my shrink was going to get a years worth of work when Raynas time comes. He patted Rayna excessively, sniffing, wiping tears and just talking, bending to pat her as her tail twirled and I stood and listened while my heart broke. Forgive me, I remember Rayna, but I forget your name. Matt, Tom, no worries. He fist bumped me for listening to him, and he told me how he already had an appointment at a breeder for a new puppy. He was waiting for his girlfriend and her dog to go around the island. Im going to be walking around looking for Ben. I thought I was going to leave, but his girlfriend was late and he just kept going. He kept petting Rayna and telling me how good she looked for 11 and good luck with her the rest of the way. I dont know what Im going to do when I face the inevitable, but I only know I will be as inconsolable as Tom is today. I know that I look at my pooch and see the closest thing Ill have to a kid and her arthritic hips and graying face are reminding me shes a senior. Occasionally she is able to jump up into the car without my help, or she chases a tennis ball for a few quick sprints like she once did, but I know shes on the back nine. It was a perspective-enhancing 20 minutes today, giving me a reminder I ignore every day in trying to enjoy what time is left and how strongly I put it to the back of my mind. Right now, I can only see Tom and the giant empty space next to him, and how he paced and looked around, lost. I told him to stay strong and remember the good stuff. He nodded but I know that was a stretch and he knew it too, but its the face we put on during moments such as this. Meanwhile, a tail thumps on the floor when I look at a half-sleeping Rayna curled on the floor. I know she can sense something is up with me, and the drumbeat of her otter tail is trying to let me know its OK right now.
Posted on: Sat, 16 Aug 2014 01:55:24 +0000
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