Dogs 102

“Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.”

–      Roger Caras    

The dog days of summer have come and gone and the crisp cool hint of fall is doing its dance. I’m grateful for the reprieve from the heat as I know this temperature is much more pleasurable to Hunter, she isn’t doing well these days and our walks are getting shorter and shorter. Many times I feel a huge twinge of guilt as Knox and I clear the doorway with leash in hand and I close the door as she still tries to nudge out pushing forward with her nose.

In so many ways Hunter still acts like a puppy, she unearths joy in every moment of every day and she is the closest thing to a pure yogi that I know, as she and most all animals for that sense, live in the moment. They aren’t wondering what shoes to wear with a certain outfit, how to best hide a double chin, or what so and so thinks of them for that matter. When Hunter is napping she does it in full bloom with deep, deep pranayama inhales and exhales, she even hums in her unfathomable state of slumber as if she is chanting. When Hunter eats, the only thing that exists in her life at that moment is the meal that is laid out before her and anyone else’s if she has her way. When she goes outside she relishes every scent as if she’s just discovering it for the first time. When she lies with her head in my lap, she is at such complete peace that I can feel her body melting into me as if we are one. When she goes for a walk her tail does a nonstop wag as if she is a windshield wiper in a torrential down pour, and, god love her, that she’s still able to go neck and neck with Knox at his high speed pace. I’m told animals will push on full steam ahead no matter how much pain they are in and have no problem paying for it later. Again, I can look to her to learn.

Her legs have been failing her for sometime now and though I’ve been in denial, I purchased a ground level condo with her in mind. Just two steps down once outside the door and she can claim a patch of grass. I’ve made a deal with myself that when she can no longer make it outside on her own….then I know what I have to do. My friend Kathy who’s a vet tech says that she knows owners feel better about letting their “pets go” when they still have some dignity left in them. I hate the words “put down” and my mind can’t even dance around the issue. I mean, I know many a human folk that I wouldn’t have a second thought about “putting down” and out of their misery, but a loving spirited furry friend who looks deep into my eyes as if she is trying to tell me some secret of the universe, send me a message, for I know, she knows I couldn’t do it. I’ve been told that sense of smell is the last sensation that leaves dogs and I know her hearing and sight has been compromised for sometime now. I feel such a colossal kinship with Hunter, like she’s giving me warning signs of future things to look for in myself; my sight is becoming an issue and as for my hearing….I have always sort of heard only what I want to hear.