Monday, February 27, 2012

BFFs

My dog is old and sick. Well, he's not technically my dog anymore but he was and ten years ago when I moved out, I couldn't take him with me so he became my parents dog, the neighbors dog, the neighborhood dog. Dakota is unique. He's a lover. He'll let you climb all over him and will kiss you like crazy. Everyone in the neighborhood loves him because unleashed, he will show up on your doorstep and hang out with your kids all day just to return home every night to the man who has been more than a father to me than my own. My stepdad, Bill.

But Dakota is thirteen now and not in great health. Having put our childhood dog down a few years back, we are suddenly preparing ourselves with the sad fact that Dakota may not last to see the end of the year or maybe even the month. I thought it would effect me more. I thought I would look at him and be devastated to witness my dog with one foot in the grave. I guess I stopped knowing him as well as I did. I guess I thought that since he lived a long, good life that I wouldn't feel as bad. What I do feel bad about is the way Dakota being sick is effecting the people who are around him everyday. The one's that call him their best friend.

Watching Bill with tears in his eyes is heartbreaking. This dog, his best friend, is consuming his every thought—his every move. He can't function properly and springs into action each time the dog lifts his head or moves incorrectly. After many tests we found that the dog has vertigo and that it should pass within a few days. Even if it does, the dog is old and it may just be prolonging the inevitable.
While sitting with Bill and watching the dog for hours lay in the middle of the yard, he said the most heartfelt statement I have heard in a while...

Bill: "All of my best friends are going to hell in a hand basket."

Me: "What do you mean? What else is going on?"

Bill: "Oh your mom and her back problems. I'm really worried about her. I ran a bath for her the other night and she's just stumbling around here always in pain."

How sweet is that? They have been married for...oh I don't know, maybe fifteen years and her and the dog are his best friends. He doesn't want any more. He doesn't need anymore. When they are hurting, he takes care of them and is empathetic to every ache and pain. To me, that defines what a best friend is. When they hurt, you hurt. It breaks your heart each and every step. That ability within human beings gives me hope. Instead of being upset that Dakota may be on his last leg, I feel a glow knowing that he is is, was, and will always be truly loved by someone. What more could anyone ask for?