Rain warm enough to wear shorts while walking, sun kissing bare arms, early jaunts to water spots where humans wade and dogs swim with abandon; though it's slow to come this year, I am savoring the summer.
No way, no how did I expect to have Mr. Pickle here with me by now. Last summer, I hoped and prayed for a few nice summer days to enjoy dipping in cool water with my buddy. Swimming dates this summer are a miracle, so unexpected, and I don't take a moment for granted.
Two summers ago – in July – we lost Nicholai's good buddy, his girlfriend Maya. Though she showed no signs of illness and passed a complete senior physical in June, she developed acute leukemia. During the last week of July, she went from running at the river with Nicholai to dead. The ride was stunning. Her owner was out of town and after three days of progressive malaise, I carried seventy pound Maya into the vet's office because by that time she was too weak to walk half a block.
That experience put me on notice: the end can come quickly for any of us. Last July I held my breath all month, convinced that by some act of spirit or alchemy beyond my understanding, Nicholai would take his earthly leave during the last week of July and race heaven-ward on the wind to play with his old flame Maya. As July came and went and we sweated and panted through the dog days of summer, then relaxed in the perfect days of autumn, I realized that Nicholai wasn't finished with his time here.
I don't want Nicholai to stay here a moment longer than is right for him. By the same token, I know I'll be holding my breath again this July, wondering if this is the moment when he sheds his old body, leaves lymphoma behind and flies away.
It's coming, I know.
No comments:
Post a Comment