Seeming Disembodied
After marking her favorite spot next to the honeysuckle, Megan starts the short climb up the hill that is our backyard in the last moments of twilight as fireflies dance around her. Thinking she will cross those thirty feet fine without the aid of my flashlight, I turn from the deck rail and wait for her by the door. But her eyesight is poor, and she is easily confused. Good days and bad.
When she doesn’t appear on the deck, I run inside for my sandals and go out to the lawn and downhill with the flashlight, but she’s nowhere to be found. I check her favorite spot and then go uphill past the deck to another area that is part of her daytime patrol as a border collie, with no luck. Making a quick lap around the house, something that would take Megan a good ten minutes due to her reduced mobility, proves to be just as fruitless, so I go back inside for help.
My wife goes downhill, past the cleared lawn, to an area thick with brush, where Megan never goes, while I go out front to check the street. I hear her call out my name and rush to the back and head downhill, where she hears Megan’s tags rattling on her collar. I turn the light into the brush, and it cuts a line through the darkness that leads right to Megan, too weak to stand, lying behind a pile of broken branches thirty yards past her usual limits. The climb back up the hill is effortless for her, as I carry her curled up against my chest knowing her trips, both downhill and up, are numbered.
frail bodies glowing
lights seeming disembodied
intermittently
from garden to grass in the night
life seems far too short at times
Oh Ken, I am so sorry, and hope Megan rallies. Maggie is finding it hard to judge distance, especially at night, though we are lucky in that the garden and drive are flat. her hearing is also beginning to fail so we are reliant more on hand signals, but have to get her attention first. her days of off lead walks are coming to an end I think.
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Thank you. It’s the same for us, with hand signals – after getting her attention. Calling for her last night was useless, but at least a loud whistle got her to turn her head so we could hear her tags rattle.
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Maggie’s 13, I think you’ve said Megan is older.
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She’s 15, but still well within her “best by” date (in our hearts).
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Always. Maggie forgets she’s not as young as she was and her speed has gone, but her heart is still willing for the chase. Take care.
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Bless her. It sounds as if someone will always have to come with her to help her now. Please give Megan a big pat from us all 💜
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🙂 Will do.
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These are such difficult times, watching our loved ones struggle.
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Indeed.
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She is clearly blessed to be in your hands (literally and in the broader sense)
Tags serve all sorts of purposes – canine SOS
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Yes. Who knew?
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What a magical recounting of these facts. A friend and companion like you have described is a sad but realistic reminder of our own mortality.
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Thank you.
Yes, all too true.
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And her last days will be spent thus, held in love.
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Oh so sad.
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Sigh.
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Sorry to hear about the decline of your dog. It’s so hard…. I’m glad you found her all right. Our pets are family, and it hurts when age starts to affect them so… Hope she does as well as possible, for as long as possible.
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Yes, family.
Thank you, Betty.
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Oh gosh–Ken. Heartbreaking. I know you’ve written how she’s declining, but I hope she does rally for a bit longer. Sending virtual hugs to you all.
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Still slowing down, but she’s still here – up and down days.
Thank you, Merril.
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