Part of me wishes I could have a companion dog. Ella, our lab mix, would need quite a bit of training and coaxing and treats, but I’m confident that she is the perfect pup for the job.
We’ve been best buds ever since I got her for Nick way back in 2001. She’ll be 10 in October.
This past year has been rough on the both of us — MS for me, and a torn MCL for her. We were on the DL for a few weeks. She can no longer jump up in our bed, where she used to take up a good half of the available real estate. We’re both on the mend to varying degrees, but I know the trying times have brought us closer.
I speak about her like she’s a person. In some ways, she’s the closest friend I have. We’ve grown up together. I can’t imagine my adult life without her.
Nick and I take her on as many trips and walks as possible. That’s been tougher lately, but we both benefit from it.
There is no purer joy for me to be with her and see that dopey grin as she rolls over to get her belly scratched.
She has been steadfast in her devotion to me. She senses when I’m down and tries, in her own small way, to make it better. That she is loyal to me is an understatement. Nick likes to kid that she is my own doggy stalker because she can be relentless in her pursuit of getting mommy time.
I know our time together is short, that she won’t always be at my side. I try not to think about the future, at least not the one without her in it.
So I’m trying to be more like her, and live in the moment. So I’ll hang my head out the window and breathlessly soak in the world, wear a dopey grin, and hope I can get my belly scratched.