A Good Dog

 
1,000 gifts number 6:  Bandit, who has been a part of the family for the past six years.  He started out as D's dog and was incredibly patient when getting a treat from D's clenched fist, or when being walked by D as the leash tangled in their legs; Bandit was just happy to be beside the boy.  And D was completely content with Bandit.  When D had seizures (as D's are photosensitive, this happened fairly frequently at first until we found the right medicine to control them), Bandit would lick his face and sit patiently beside him.  

Bandit accepted his treats, played occasional catch, walked A LOT, and soon grew to be everyone's dog!  Knox would "exercise" him in the yard running back and forth with the leash and Ben would dress him up or feed him pretend treats.  Stan walked him regularly and fed him when D forgot or I forgot to take D outside to do it.  Bandit kept me company as I read in the backyard, supervising the boys' play.  

Bandit was a good dog.

However, we didn't take care of him as we should have.  So, yesterday when the boys and I tried to take him for a walk, he refused and sat in the middle of the road and wouldn't even move when incoming cars threatened to run him over.  We got him into the car with the help of a sweet neighbor and took him to the vet where he received some shots supposed to make him feel better, to alleviate his pain.  When we got home, he just lay there and moaned softly sotto voce, as we stroked his head and side.  The heartworms had weakened his heart's ability to pump.   It was time to say goodbye.

This morning as I drove D home from his evaluation from South MS Regional Center to ensure he still needs services as part of the mentally challenged population, I was somewhat down as he had only gained a few skills since his last evaluation three years ago. (OK, to be real, tears were flowly freely--no somewhat about it.)  But tests will never adequately measure what he can do, I KNOW that.  And I was thinking of Bandit, too, and how I wish we had done a better job of caring for his medical condition.  And then I had a glass-is-half-full revelation.  I will never feel that same regret with my children.  One day when my children are grown, I will not say "I wish we had done this. . ."  because I am doing all in my financial and physical and emotional power to provide them the best life possible.  Their best life now (sorry, honey, Joel O. came to mind! ;).  Even considering all the therapy I did with D that consumed my life in his early years versus the limited therapy we do now that fits into our lifestyle, I will not have regrets.   
D has been happy.  His brothers are happy.  Stan and I are blessed.
More of my
one thousand gifts:
7.  The azure sky this winter afternoon
8.  My Dad who was my first follower on this blog and who has always been my biggest encourager
9.  My Mom who is and always has been my best and truest friend


Comments

  1. avwJanuary 13, 2012 at 2:21 PM

    So happy to see you writing and to get a chance to read it regularly. I love how you are focused on the 1000 gifts, such a lovely theme.

    I also love that you thank your dad (and mom, of course). My dad's unwavering encouragement to me since I was little keeps spurring me on, too!.

    And may I say, not that I am surprised, since you and I share taste in so many things, that I love Nina Simone, yet I have never heard her version of "Here Comes the Sun" - beautiful!

    ReplyDelete
  2. GinnyJanuary 14, 2012 at 11:31 AM

    Thank you--I found the song quite by accident. It was an assignment for my voice students in talking about style and how the shapes of vowels can make a song emote--we compared 4 versions of the George Harrison tune. James Taylor and Yo-Yo Ma had a rendition as different from Simone's as it was lovely.

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