Bob the Wonderdog
This last week has really made me think about a lot of things. Last Saturday Lori and I came to realize that our dog Bob has some type of neurological disorder that is causing him to go blind and have seizures.
I can honestly say that I have been in tears a few times watching the poor dog constantly circle to the left, bump into things and lose his balance. It’s very hard to have to watch my friend lose what I may call his dignity.
I have never been prouder of the big orange goof. Not once has he cried or yelped. Not once has he stopped trying to carry on with his life. Even though he can’t see he finds his food and water and does not stop being ‘Bob’.
I can’t help but wonder what drives him to keep going. Every time he hears a sound he wants to get up and protect Lori and myself. The medication he is on really knocks him out but he still gets up and does his best to patrol the house and make sure we are safe.
I find I am trying to get home from work earlier. I miss not seeing Bob come to the door with his tail wagging and his chew toy in his mouth. This is Bob’s offering to Lori and I. I miss seeing the clod run like a deer and bound off the patio to make sure the backyard is safe. We now have to help him down the stairs and make sure he doesn’t fall into the river behind our house.
I want to be home and make sure my friend is as comfortable as possible. I know he is confused now and wondering what is happening. I’ve found myself lying on the floor next to Bob with his head across my left shoulder just talking to him so he knows I am there. I have never felt so peaceful when I know he is asleep and his soft nasally breath slows down.
There are no other words to describe the feeling. Love and loyalty. From Bob to us, and, from us to Bob. All of this for food, water, a roof over his head and a pat on the head.
It hurts to watch this poor dog have seizures. It hurts more to know that after he has stopped I think he feels bad for what he has done and tries to lick my face as if he is trying to say he is sorry. Exhausted and barely able to move he wants me to know he is sorry.
All I can do is hope. I will keep just talking to Bob and petting him until his time comes. I pray that it is peaceful and I pray that I can be there petting him and softly talking to him.
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1 comment:
Whoever thinks you're a caveman doesn't know you own a dog.
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