The first half of his life is a mystery. We’ll never know what he experienced, or how he interpreted it. The wounds, the hurts, the sadness…. loneliness. Yet, we do know the second half of his life. It was with US.
April Fools Day, the road trip to meet him was long and tedious. Upon arrival, amidst his shaved body and sores on his skin, I saw into his transparant eyes. He was a keeper. A deep soul. That boy named Duncan was to come home with us that very day.
Four years of life had gone by previous to our meeting. We never knew what he had been through, nor will we. Often I envisioned he was stuck in a cage for those years. His habit was to have his head propped up on a wall, or he’d secure himself under the four legs of a chair, so he still had the sense of familiar four walls, invisible or not. I suppose my interpretation could be wrong. Nonetheless, someone had given him up, and he was mine to love, learn, and befriend.
Facebook is one of the many public tools I see used to impose personal opinion on others. It’s sad, since the term on Facebook… people that you see… are considered ‘friends’. Those very ‘friends’ can sometimes be extremely judgmental with their own standpoint and opinion.
We heard from the vet today that it may be as quick as three months. Could be more than that..each day is a gift.
Trying to keep his routine as normal as possible, there still is an awareness inside that each event, each interaction, even his dinnertime is more meaningful.
A wonderful lady in the waiting room was with me when Bo’s ultrasound was done, which subsequently led to the diagnosis of malignant bladder cancer, was a secret angel, I know it. Total stranger, I don’t even know her name. She asked me when I came back from having my ‘talk’ with the vet specialist, ‘was everything alright’. My eyes teared up as I responded ‘not really’. She immediately came to me and gave me a big hug. Her own dog limping with three legs from recent knee surgery.
After she and her husband had their consult with the vet about her dog’s knees, she made her way back to the waiting room, just to sit next to me. She wept with me as if it were her own four legged friend, and spoke gently about our love for our fur children. One of the most meaningful things she said was “The good news, is HE doesn’t know he’s sick. You have the knowledge, but he doesn’t”. Continue reading →