We have arrived at summer again. Unbelievable on the one hand because the cool and rainy weather of late had begun to make me wonder if Oregon skipped summer altogether, heading straight from spring to fall. Unbelievable on the other hand because at this time last summer, I was hoping against hope that my good buddy Nicholai would have a few nice summer days just swimming and hanging out. Week by tenuous week, I would dare to set my sights a tad further, and then one day it was Halloween, then Christmas and New Year's and a whole 'nother year. This time last year, imagining and wishing for summer swimming this year was completely inconceivable.
To be honest, I see Nicholai starting to slow down. His swollen lymph tumors seem to be getting the upper hand. He's lost weight – and for a pie eating boy – that's saying something. I wonder how long he can continue to not only beat the odds, but smash them. How long can a ten-year-old dog live in our polluted world with cancer and keep on trucking? I guess I'm about to find out.
Yesterday and today, with a little help from that golden orb in the sky we've seen so little of recently, Nicholai and our walking buddies enjoyed the first real swims of the year. Nicholai won't retrieve tennis balls on land for love or money – or even tasty treats – but toss that same ball into a lake or river in nice enough weather, and he's on it. When he's had enough of swimming, he loves nothing more than to nab a gooey green ball, steal into the grass with it, and rip it to shreds.
Whatever happens this summer, I have been truly blessed to have this time.
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