Going where I am needed most

In Lifestyle on April 9, 2011 at 2:41 pm

"It ain't the years, boy. It's the miles." (Chris LeDoux)

It’s time for Phyne Dyning to take some R&R.

The past few days have been memorable: late night calls about a sick mother suddenly being taken to the hospital, a dying dog, and the actions of mean-spirited people.

Thank G-d, the first turned out to be a false alarm.  The second, is slowly and inevitably happening to my old greyhound “Jack”.  The third does not deserve comment.

I spend a lot of time now just sitting with old Jack.  He is not in pain, he is just “wearing out”.  Wearing out is a direct consequence of having lived a long time in dog years.  It seems almost cruel that one’s reward for having a long life is eventually just wearing out.

Jack used to tear around the garden, his feet barely touching the ground.

Now, I carry him up and down the stairs.  Once out, he still looks at the squirrels but resigns himself to only window shopping.  He would like to lay down in the sun, but getting back up is tough.  So he thinks better of it and is content to stand with his eyes closed in the sunshine.  Occasionally, he still manages a canter and tosses his head with his tongue lolling from his mouth.  Afterward, he pants as though he had just chased the mechanical rabbit around the racetrack.

I pick him up and carry him inside.  He gets a drink or a snack and lays down.  In a few minutes, his feet are twitching and his lips curl back as he gallops toward the finish line.

In his sleep, he is young again.  I stroke his head as he sleeps; his jet black muzzle now nearly snow white.

There will be time for more recipes later.  Jack is entering the final turn of his last race.

I need to be in the stands cheering him.


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