05/24/2018
It's approaching 2 years since Pip went down, paralyzed in all 4 limbs. Suzanne put to words how I felt when we started his rehab journey. I miss him dearly now, but the "extra" 10 months I had with him were so very special.
My old boy Stone, lost the use of hind legs three weeks ago. That first day, I was not sure he would come home from the vet's office with me. Although he was weak (had an infection) and had to be carried in and out, he remained calm, dignified and looked me in the eye and let me know he wasn't ready to go just yet.
I wasn't sure if that simply meant taking him home to spend a couple of days saying goodbye before we let him go. I always worry that I am mishearing an animal when they say, "Not done yet!" Not sure why, as I never, ever hesitate when an animal looks at me and says, "I am done."
But 24 hours later, once the antibiotics kicked in, it was clear that while his hind legs weren't working, the rest of him surely was. Appetite, attitude, all systems go. We ordered a cart, built him a special bed and structured our daily schedule around his needs.
Fast forward 3 weeks later. He's set up on a comfy throne in the car so he could go for a ride with me. We've stopped by to visit our gifted healer & chiro - she climbed right into the car to work with him. He took it all with his usual aplomb and quiet assurance that of course he would be given all available help.
Two things struck me very hard as I watched him soaking in the healing:
1. Stone accepted all that we were doing without protest or turning away. I had the strongest sense that if he could talk, he would not protest or express guilt. This is so different from how I am incapacitated by vertigo. Why do we feel guilty for accepting help? What point does that serve? As a helper to others in need, I don't want people apologizing; I'm glad to help. I need to be more animal like in accepting that sometimes I can offer care, and sometimes, I need to receive care. Period. I consider it an honor to care for this great dog. It's tiring and time consuming, but that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. It is how we love him right down to the last steps of our shared journey.
2. Even while he was being worked on, I was dreading how getting him out of the car at home had a good chance of undoing all of the great work the doctor was providing, and said so. She stopped me with a quiet, "But he will have had it for those minutes." It was like being hit gently but forcibly in the heart.
Why do I spend so much time dreading what is to come and undermining the good that has been done? Why don't I focus more on good that is real? Between the gift of healing and the moment when it may be undone to some degree by trying to carry a very large 80 pound dog, there are real and good things happening for Stone.
I realized that my focus needs to be more on the good and enjoy it as long as it lasts. Because it will come to an end, but that does not negate the power of what is happening before that end arrives.
Thank you, Stone.
