I am NOT letting go…

As I look back on the weekend, I am beginning to realize how much I truly try to “hide” from my children. I guess it was the way I was brought up or it is just the fact that I cannot endure seeing them hurt. It was a weekend of dog sitting for my bestie and normally it is an easy and fun task. However, things took a turn on Sunday…

I love watching my besties dogs and have been attached to her one dog for over 10 years (this tells you his age). The other dog is still in “puppy” phase and becomes a complete play toy for my daughter. As we got up on Sunday, I just knew something was wrong. I walked by him (the older dog) and he just raised his head. I tried to coax him into the kitchen and he wanted no part of it.

I decided to let him relax and figured he was just tuckered out from all the activities on Saturday (going up and down my stairs). By 11AM, I decided he needed to, at least; go to the bathroom, so I decided to leash him and take him out the front (only 3 steps). He took the first step and I watched him struggle. As we got to the second and third step, he stopped and wanted no parts of it. At this point, I looked at his pack legs and knew that is where he was feeling the pain.

I picked him up (a struggle) and carried him to the yard. He tried to walk a few steps and decided to just stop. I sat on the ground next to him and looked in his eyes. He looked so tired and totally “beat”. I am not sure what came over me, but at that moment; I lost it.

I held him in my arms and cried. Yup, I cried right there in my front yard with my bestie’s dog in my arms. I cried because I wasn’t ready to let go. I thought of all the memories both good and bad that surrounded this creature. Many would probably say “it is just a dog”, but I realized at that moment; that he is more than “just a dog”. Through his eyes, he saw all the many life challenges that we all went through. He is the guardian of the house, the alarm when you are late, the comfort blanket when you are sad, the instant vacuum for any unwanted crumbs, and most importantly the pillow to hide your pain. As I nuzzled in his fur, I had flashes of all the memories. I thought of the day that they brought him home. He was a ball of love with kennel cough. He was last of the litter but the best in our eyes. I remembered the day that my bestie brought her son home for the first time and how he instantly went into “protective mode”. I remembered the backyard compound that we built and the laughter that went with watching him bark at every smell and sound. I remember going through colic with my son and having him to nuzzle with as my bestie took over to give me a break. I remembered watching him struggle after deciding to eat an entire plate of unwatched hot dogs and hamburgers. The thoughts went on and on and I realized that I wasn’t ready to let go of any of those memories…

As I carried him back inside, I saw the tears rolling down the cheeks of my little girl. She wanted to know why he couldn’t walk and wanted me to fix him. I tried to hold back my tears but I couldn’t. We sat and cried together, as I contemplated what to do. His breathing was good… He was eating… He was drinking… He is NOT ready to GO!

After tears and conversations, my bestie’s mom and dad came and got my “old friend” and took him with them. The tears rolled from both me and my daughter as her dad carried him out. I just kept watching him and praying that my intuition was correct and that he just needed medicine.

They got his arthritis medicine filled and as of today..HE IS DOING GREAT! After all of this, I have realized one thing.. I have so many good memories and it took my “old friend” to realize it. I tend to focus on the bad and on this day…he made me stop and remember the good.

So in Keeping it REAL, it shouldn’t take a scary or sad moment to remember the “good”. Although I am glad that it all came back to me…. We should all focus on the good in the past and only learn from the “forgettable”. After all, life is much like an elevator. You must accept the delay in waiting for the doors to open. You must accept the doors opening on the wrong floor. And most importantly, you must accept the pit in your stomach as the elevator (life) carries you up to your destination. You may feel impatient or like you may never get there, but eventually you will reach the penthouse “happiness” and it will be worth the wait!