Sunday, June 26, 2011
Look to the sky
After the rain falls
London, ON, May 2011
To say it's been a rough week would be an understatement. Our barely-a-puppy dog is now our diabetic-barely-a-puppy. We wake up at 5 every morning to stick him with a needle - which, as you can guess, he absolutely relishes, to the point that he now helps us get the insulin into the syringe. We then watch his every move, wondering if he's drinking too much or not enough, going outside enough or not enough, or even breathing too heavily or not.
He's not his usual boisterous self. Sure, he's as sweet as he's always been, and as our good, dog-authority friend said, dogs don't have the "woe is me" gene so he has no idea he's got a dark cloud following him around by virtue of a genetically defective pancreas. But he's just, I don't know, off. Doesn't hog our pillows as soon as we get out of bed. Doesn't jump onto the couch when we're sitting on it. Doesn't play with his stuffed snowman with quite the same oomph of a crazy schnauzer.
We're worried. And I know some non-pet-types are probably laughing by this point, as he's a dog. Not a human. Not a father or grandfather. But an animal. He can't speak, can't type and can't help cover the monthly bills. He takes up space, ruins our sleep patterns and wrecks the house.
But he's mine. And ours. And he matters to our kids. And in doing so he's become an integral part of who we are, of our family history. And as we take him back to the vet for a day-long series of tests tomorrow, we find ourselves wondering and worrying about this little thing who's already had enough tsuris (difficulty) in his life. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make this all go away. But that's not how life works.
Instead, we walk him a lot more than ever before. Which gives me lots of time to stare at the sky and wonder. Which leads me to these clouds. Because I spotted them last month after one of the more vicious electrical storms in recent memory. Apocalyptic floods, falling tree limbs, you name it and these clouds unleashed it on us.
And when it was done, there was this. Perhaps impossible-to-forsee goodness can indeed emerge from the darkness. The only way to know is to keep looking for it.
Your turn: Focusing on the good. Please discuss.