Max and How Life Has a Hard Time Changing
Made a trip to the Whole Foods store to get carrots for some soup as I have a cold. Started out the door, leash in hand, and opened the car’s back door first, so Beefy Boy could jump in.
No jumping happy man finding his favorite window seat. I had to pause and let the image and the emptiness wash over me. My cold seemed worse, my head hurt and my eyes burned with tears. Gracie’s leash rides in the front seat with me so I placed Maxie’s next to it.
The leather of Grace’s leash has that beautiful patina and a couple puppy teeth marks from other users that I walked and loved. Max had the heavy nylon lead that I discovered has some of his fur at the clip. I looked at how stained it had become despite frequent washing because I would let him drag it down the street still trying to encourage him to buy the routine of walking close to Mom. I pulled at the clump of fur and then let it rest in a loop I could see and touch. One of his green planet waste bags was attached to the handle. Strangely, I would give anything to be picking up behind him today.
I thought I heard the tags on his collar last night and I sat up in bed thinking he needed to go out and did I leave him fresh water. The darkness became more than the night, it was grief and loss. This morning when I slipped my feet into dry slippers, it was bittersweet. He always managed to lay on them sometime during the night so they would be wet with “Maxie’s dew drops”. Oh how we choose to accept their dogginess because it is so truly innocent.
I walked into the kitchen to find my November work schedule on the floor as well as my cell phone charger. Both kitties had gone to bed with me and were sleeping in their same place. I do not know how those things came to be there. I have always made my kids the priority in schedules and left my mobile behind on walks and excursions out. Maybe I need to leave behind more than just tools? Can you hear me now?
He was such a happy boy, no fuss, just Buddha Boy cool with everything. I had thought him a little “dorkie” and now I have replaced that unfair evaluation as being very Zen. Interesting that at the end we both recognized each other’s value. He became my dog. Kissing my neck and face as I leaned to brush him. He loved that pin brush around that area on his mouth and beard where he had the teeth removed. And any attention to his back found him stomping his back foot and bumping me with his hip like a little horse.
I am hopeful that as I come full circle in this journey these amazing creatures are my infinity, as above so below. The continuous flow of joy and purity. I miss them.
Thank you for calling last night. It is important to share with someone akin to these relationships.
Take care, Lynn.