Counting Blessings with Nash

   

    It's there in his eyes, in his body, and in his smell. A change is coming.  I know this, the Girls know this, and I suspect on some level he does, too.  Cool weather descends like autumn leaves.  His Passing lurks in various portions of my mind, and I remember my decision - the decision NOT to make a decision. This has been a blessing for I - we - have all been more present, and able to feel each moment we share.  Tonight, for instance while eating dinner on the couch, the Girls looked on, and Nash lay content next to me. Just like old times. All is right in the world. He's alert, as expectant as the Girls, and very much with us.  He anticipated his serving of chicken and rice soup.  Of course his ability to eat off a spoon has dwindled. Most of each spoonful of rice ended on the dog bed between us. The prop to keep him upright. 
     Special moments like this keep popping up. A moment of tenderness slipped between moments of care, sometimes arduous, of the canine senior citizen.  Those who have been there know what I am talking about, those who have yet... that's another entry. Fortunately, I have a schedule which allows time to tend to my old friend.  We do our best, and feel I have learned how to maintain his comfort.   I read his signs as best I can.  This is my second go round of senior canine care. I feel like a veteran, but I know I am not.  My tolerance level for care is high. There are times when it is not. We all lack sleep during those times. 
     Then why keep him here? Why, and a gazillion more why's?  I hear it in everyone's voice, or perhaps that is my own? Simply put, TIME, and SIGNS.  I have not received the SIGN, nor does it feel like the TIME. I also think the two of us need to finish working though our journey to complete whatever lesson I am suppose to learn from HIM. Perhaps he is to learn a lesson from Me, or life itself?   So, in short, we haven't gotten the sign.  I picked the date, it  came and went.  The Spring turned to Summer, and its winds blew on through. Green grasses, and leaves turned to golden yellow, bright orange, brilliant red, and now brown. We are still here.
    A visit to the vet for one of the Girls. I am asked " how is your old boy." she asks. 
    "He's ready I think." I said.  In a quiet, tired reply.
    "Yet, his mistress isn't."  she said.  
    "NO. No. I am ready (really, are we ever ready?).  I released him in Maine, this past August, when I wrote my message in the bottle, and tossed it out to sea." I said, in a strong affirming voice.
     "It came right back after I tossed it out." I said, and gave a hearty laugh.  Go figure. 
     "It simply isn't Time, yet, but feel a change." I said.

Nash on his 13th birthday

I love my boy. 

My amazing boy.

 Through his delicate frame, once robust, strong, and alive with the vigor of life,  I see him.