The Bucket List

For many years, Nicholai had a girlfriend. An all-American mutt, Maya belonged to a family friend and typically spent at least a month's worth of time at our house while her globe-trotting human traveled. Sometimes, she would spend significantly more time with us throughout the year. Nicholai and Maya played vigorously together, charging up and down beaches till their tongues dragged in the sand. At home they palled around together, easily sharing food and sleeping spaces. One afternoon, I glanced out the window to see the two of them lying in the yard, with front paws crossed, gently licking each other's faces. "They're so sweet on each other," I commented.

Two summers ago, Maya was staying with us for the month of July. She seemed especially playful, swimming and chasing tennis balls in the river. One sunny morning, she and Nicholai played their hearts out, reminding me of when they were young. The two of them were so filled with joyous puppy-surging energy that I called Maya's person to exclaim. Within a week, Maya had died of acute leukemia.

In retrospect, what struck me the most – gave me chills even – was the undeniable joie d'vie that Maya demonstrated immediately before her sudden and rapid decline. I had to ask myself – Did she know? Did I witness her last hurrah?

Dogs can identify cancer cells within small tissue samples in a Petri dish and can be trained to communicate this information to human observers. Would it not follow that dogs can smell cancer in other dogs, and even in themselves? While I have been known to wax poetic about the ability of dogs to live in the moment, I also have to wonder if they can sense the end coming. And if they do, do they have a Bucket List?

Nicholai talks to me each morning about heading out for our walk. He sits at my feet and vocalizes in a very intentional and energetic way – somewhere between a bark, a howl, and a whine. We all call it "hubba-hubba," because it sounds closer to that than anything else we can reproduce. If I don't respond right away, he ups the ante with increased volume and frequency, finally jumping into my lap. His intensity and sense of urgency appear to all in our household to have increased in the past six months. I think daily walks are on his bucket list.

Nicholai's brother, Kindred, has rallied – for the time-being, at least. I visited him over the weekend and he seemed great – happy and energetic. His human companion, my friend, tells me that though he's always been affectionate, now he sticks like Velcro and demands snuggles and petting. Is spending quality time with his beloved person on his bucket list?

I know that I have a bucket list for my time with Nicholai. It goes like this:

*give the dog a treat

*spend time with the dog

* take the dog for a hike

* take the dog for a swim

* pet the dog

*did I mention? – give the dog a treat