This weekend marks my dog Mia's seventh birthday. It was November 17th 2003, my Mom's birthday, when we brought her home. I had just gotten engaged three weeks before to Andrew. He was going to propose to me down by the river walking his roomate's dog Yaeger, that we all adored. The night Andrew asked for my hand in marriage to my father, Yaeger was killed in a hit and run accident, it was devastating to all. He was the first dog that we ever had in my parents house. There was one night when Yaeger thought the back screen door at my folks was open, and walked right into it...he was such a goof. He was only a year and a half when he died, it was a difficult loss because he was so loyal to all of us.
Two months before her birthday, my Mom's father was diagnosed with terminally ill lung cancer. My grandmother had gone into a nursing home the year before with a condition called "failure to thrive." And so when we heard that my healthy, active and most of all loving Pop-Pop was sick, it rocked our family to the core. He was our strength, it was not expected. Never once acknowledging that he heard the doctors say he was dying my Mom's dad went to his chemotherapy appointments and made friends with all the nurses. My mom on the other hand was torn. It was her father, the man she adored, she was going to loose him to cancer, soon. She put on a brave face around him, and when the time came a month later when Andrew proposed, she was joyful. Although somewhere in the back of all of our heads we knew Pop would not be around to see that day, on earth at least. So when her birthday arrived, my brother James, asked the question...."What do you think about getting Mom a dog?" I rushed home to pick him up to travel up to the Barn to search high and low for the dog that would take away her sadness....or so we hoped.
As James and I lapped through the barn we came across two puppies. They were labeled "Husky/Lab/Mini-Eskimo". We took them out to play with them, the male dog had patch over his eye and seemed to be much smaller than the other. The sister pup, had wolf like mask around her face...piercing blue and brown eyes....and white gloves on each of her paws, with floppy ears. James and I debated over which one we could choose. We even called my father to get his opinion, he only said the words "Do what you think is best." We pretended not to understand what he really meant. On our way out of the store, the female pup stood up on her hind legs and walked towards both of us. We knew...She would eventually come home with us later that evening. As Andrew, James and I walked in to my parents home, my mother asked repeatedly "Whose dog is that? Whose dog is that? " She was in a bit of denial that night as we all were enamored by the little five pound puppy that looked like a doll. Three days later, my Mom called me at work and told me that she wanted me to return the dog. She said that she was not one of those people who could love an animal. Mia never went back to the barn. I have this imprint of my mother a month later at Christmas laying on the floor as Mia playfully kisses her face... and my Mom's voice saying the words "I love you Mia..."
My Pop-Pop passed away later the next spring, never once asking why. My mother grieved, we all grieved. Two years later my grandmother passed when her body decided to shut down the day after Mother's Day. Through all these moments, our dog has stood by as our loyal family companion. Through it all, Mia, has been a ray of sunshine for all of us. I really truly believe that God only puts dogs her on earth for such a short while because they are so perfect, he needs them back.
WIth life comes love. Even when we loose it, we find it again...in the unexpected places....
No comments:
Post a Comment