Althea

Saturday Morning

This morning I woke up to a friendly Althea rubbing my hand and face. She was begging me wake up and give her a morning massage. She rarely lets me sleep past 7am. I am not sure what she is so desperate for in the morning but she works very hard to pleasantly and gently rouse me to the world. It is a rare Saturday morning that I have off and even more amazing I am staying in town. I love to wake up slowly and mosey my way into the kitchen where one small push of a button will unleash the pleasant aroma of freshly brewing coffee. When it is ready I my senses will slowly come alive as I pour a cup and watch the steam rise while a few precious drops dribble down the side of the cup. Next I grab the chewed-up leather leash hanging on the back of my desk chair attach to Abbey's collar then we step outside into the overcast morning. It threatens to rain but so far we are safe as Abbey stops to sniff her regular route. She has to be aware of everything that happened on the block since her last sojourn. It is only a short walk as I am still in my Scottie dog pajamas. I feel that the moment I change my clothes it marks the end of a lazy morning. We round the first corner where a large bed of Dahlias and other flowers await us. Every morning I have to stop and appreciate the natural pinks, yellows, whites, and violets of the flowers that populate this space between the house on the corner and its garage. The residents of the house have asked me on many occasions to help myself to cuttings. There is nothing that man can make that equals the natural velvety softness of a living flower petal. As we turn the next corner to head down the alley I see a wild mass of sunflowers trying to hide behind the garage bowing under the weight of the large yellow blossoms but still towering over me. We move down the alley passing closed garage doors and parked cars until we come to our own yard. Abbey has to check her corners looking for what ever activity might have occurred overnight. Then we walk to the front of the building pull out the keys and go inside where I refill my coffee cup and move on to the rest of the day....

To Be a Girl for a Day

It is turning into fall now...leaves have started changing and it is hard to tell what the weather will be. One night it is a frost advisory, then 2 days later it is 90 degrees. I am in a wedding in two weeks. This means that I have to spend an ungodly amount on my appearance. A beautiful cinnamon colored dress that, in spite of the bride's best intentions, I will, most likely, never wear again. I have purchased two pairs of new shoes to go with that dress. Two because the first pair I bought was inappropriate but I loved them and needed an excuse. The bride is an easy going young woman who said they were fine but my mom was kind enough to point out the "clunky" factor. So I was inspired to shop for the higher heeled strappy things that one would normally wear with a fancy dress. Next I was compelled to have my hair foiled to brighten it up. This is something I normally do but not necessarily this time of year. I feel that these people will have their wedding pictures several years into the future, the least I could do is have brighter, richer hair. We will also be provided a professional hair stylist on that day to arrange the appropriate hair styles. Soon it will be time for the brow wax and maybe a 'stache wax since I am there, not to mention the manicure and pedicure. Meanwhile, lacking any form of lipstick, I had to go where the girls are pretty and find some way to enhance my lips. Unfortunately collagen enhancement is out of my price range so I had to settle for the make-up counter at Herberger's. It was virtually painless. Finally I found I needed a new bra. I searched for that little something extra that my thirties stole from me, to give 'em a little push, make. The miracle bra combined with the tummy tucker ought to provide the lady-like figure I strive for. Today I go in for my final dress fitting. All of this just to be girl for a day....

The right pair of shoes

Next month I am in a wedding of a good friend of mine. This means that I have to be in a girlie dress with girlie shoes. Unfortunately I was not provided with a terribly girlie way of being. I had to hunt down a pair of shoes that looked feminine,yet, functional. The first pair I purchased were too "clunky." I love clunky and I can walk in them but unfortunately they were not girlie enough...I have a natural born klutziness combined with genetically calculated accident-prone-ness further complicated by very flat feet. After months of shoe searching I found a passable pair. They look like they have a heel but the toe is also raised so it is not severe enough to render my knees useless. Now I am practicing wearing then around the house in pajamas so I may walk confidently down the aisle. Today I am happy to report that I have worn them for a full hour and a half and have not stumbled once. Perhaps there is hope for me yet....

A True Companion (revised)

“I have made the commitment, blessed to be the receiver of so awe-inspiring gift as the love of a dog, to be a worthy trustee of their hearts and souls until the end.”

-Debra Marlin from Yellow Dog

People who say there is no magic in this world have never experienced the true companionship of a dog. It is a bond that is surpassed only by the love of God. The dog becomes not just a friend or family member but a real extension of your self. This creature can see through the disguises and masks that you show the rest of the world but loves you regardless. If you lash out in fear or anger she calms you down. If you are sad she lays quietly beside you in comfort so you know you are not alone. When you are happy and excited she is joyful and celebrates with you. She knows your needs sometimes before you do.

My bond has the name of Abbey. She is about 40 pounds of short, yet abundant fur. Many shades of blacks, tans and now, grays cover her fourteen year old bones. Her soft brown eyes rimmed with black look past mine into my soul. We rarely have to speak out loud anymore as our routines hardly change. She delights in trips to the river. She scouts a few feet ahead on the path her full wolf like tail straight behind her, she means business. Her floppy, triangle shaped ears are always forward and bouncing as she scans the woods for her would-be prey though her eyes no longer see as much as they used to. Now days we are content to sit by the water for hours as I read a book. She will read the beach with her nose, sniffing under rocks and other river debris. When she has thoroughly checked everything out she will wade into shallows and dip down to cool off. Then she finds an ideal spot near me, content in the sun.

Abbey has a job as well. She shows up on time every day and takes her spot on a broken grooming table. Twelve inches off the ground her throne is piled with dog beds from where she surveys the room. She chooses to lay there all day amid the chaos, dogs barking and biting, telephones ringing, blow dryers whining, and people constantly in and out. Yet she remains unruffled, the only calm presence in the room. She is careful to keep an eye on things between the many naps and adorations of the clients dropping their dogs off for grooming. She is not one to require the spotlight yet she accepts the attention with grace.

Early on Abbey and I had a less than quiet life. In college I had many different roommates in many different houses. We lived with five people at a time sometimes as well as dogs and cats. She always took things in stride. The German shepherd in her was alert and protective. We called her the freak-o-meter because she could read a person’s intentions before we could and she was rarely wrong. She once chased a stranger who had wandered into our house before the other two dogs even knew he was there. She was well prepared for what ever life threw at us.

Abbey is still serious about her duty but her ears hear less and her old bones move slower. Those squirrels, so enticing before are a mild entertainment. She relies on me for comfort and protection. She relies on her nose to read the parts of the world that I cannot understand.

This week Abbey and I went to the vet. We have been there many times before, more often in the last few years but this time was different. She knew before I did. In the bright fluorescent lights of the sterile exam room she was pacing the floor her tongue hanging out, panting faster than usual. She is always a little nervous at the vet but not to this extent. I wonder if she was trying to keep something from me. She hides her weaknesses as any dog will. But the bond is such that I could recognize the subtle changes in her lately.

She is an older dog so we have been watching many things over the last year or so. We have regular blood tests to follow her Kidney disease. X-rays showed some irregularities inside but nothing we could pinpoint. She developed a finicky appetite but with a few tricks such as adding canned, baby and homemade food we have kept her eating. She frolics in the yard, chases her cats, and takes long walks at the river and in the woods. She gets in the car without help. In fact other than a little arthritis and her graying muzzle you would never know her true age. I always tell her she doesn’t look a day over ten.

Still, lately she seems older. More often she will go in the other room to sleep instead of by the couch with me. Sometimes I see her staring out the window but the look on her face gives me the impression she in concentrating inward. Some days she cannot find a comfortable spot to lie down at all. She will look at me really hard willing me to read her mind but I don’t know what she wants. She will stumble, very slightly when going up or down stairs then look at me to see if I noticed.

Dealing with these things I felt I had prepared myself. I do not wish to prolong her life. To keep her around for me would selfish. I will not do surgery of any kind as I do not want her last months to be in recovery. Quality not quantity. I had answered these questions many times. I was prepared.

So when we went to the vet that day I tried to convince my self that it was like all the others times and that I was overreacting. That what I felt in her belly was nothing. Even Dr. Sutherland could barely feel it. But the x-ray showed us a different dog. Abbey’s stomach was filling up half her body cavity. Dr. Sutherland explained the different possibilities of what we were seeing. But when the word tumor comes up you don’t really hear anything else. When the radiologist saw it she confirmed a tumor is causing an obstruction in her stomach. We don’t know how fast it is growing....

Now I am faced with the knowledge that my best friend will not be around forever as I had furtively hoped deep within my heart. We all secretly convince our selves when they are full of life that nothing will ever take them away from us. Logically we know better but on this matter the heart and mind do not always see eye to eye. Now it is my turn to “buck up” as she has done for me over the years. Through the anti-depressants and anxiety, break-ups and tragedies, through the people who have come and gone in our lives she has remained a constant. She is an endless wealth of unconditional love. I will not dwell on the death that awaits her but on the life she has left. Animals see death as a part of life; human beings make it a tragedy and loss. I truly see her as a gift from God. She is an angel lent to me for a short period of time, when I needed her most. When the time comes I will honestly and lovingly let her go.

Michele Heyer, July 19, 2007