This past week I’ve been down for the count – started with a scratchy throat, progressed to bronchitis. I’ve not slept well in nearly a week, spending most time in my recliner with the vaporizer on. Zapped of strength and energy, it’s been a lonesome, despairing week – expect for one important thing: I’ve not been alone.
My blind dog, Sage, has learned how to jump onto the recliner and turn around and find a comfortable position to lie next to me. She’s done that for quite sometime. Usually, she turns away so that her nose and ears face the livingroom so she can smell and hear things going on around her better. However, this week, instead of her “normal” position on the chair, she has turned to face me, lay her head on my chest, and simply relax and “look at” me with such adoration. My heart has melted, and thanksgiving rises up for this special dog. She has given me great comfort in being by my side and in how she “looks” at me. I know she can’t see, but there’s just something about her expression, her acceptance of both her condition and of me – not at my best – that is heartwarming and uplifting.
I recall walks we’ve taken and how she simply just “goes” – walking in snow, walking in the woods (on a leash of course!), walking through a park – and she expresses no reservations; in fact, she WANTS to go walking! I cannot imagine, not being able to see, and just walking. Trusting your companion fully and just enjoying the experience of being outdoors, taking in the smells, the crispness of the winter air, the freshness of the mountains in summer… What faith, what courage, what trust!
As I sat close with my dog this week, I was reminded how important we are to them, and I know how important she is to me. Giving me love, acceptance, devotion, and comfort in my time of need. How many people actually do that for other people, including those we say we love? Humans can certainly learn a lot from their pets. Too bad more of us don’t acknowledge that fact!
