It is an “I don’t’ care if I get out of bed” sort of day. We are engulfed by a Pineapple Express, sent from Hawaii (or hell, if you prefer), and intent on drowning any seasonal goodwill which may be lingering now that Christmas 2024 is in the rearview mirror.
It’s the kind of day when my two personalities do battle, with my psyche as the prize.
One of my personalities, the one I rejected eighteen years ago, wants to bah-humbug the whole damned day, curse and complain and concentrate on all I wanted to do outside.
The other, my best friend, although I rarely acknowledge that, wants me to get on with life, tackle the indoor to-do list, and quit bitchin’.
Maggie interrupts these heavy deliberations, wagging her tail, making it known that she needs to visit the Great Outdoors. Maggie has no interest in the weighty decisions given so much importance by her owner. She lives on a very basic level of existence . . . eat, sleep, play, and love, not necessarily in that order on any given day.
This particular walk takes place on the farm/school where I am the caretaker, part-time, this being a Saturday, no school, the owner on vacation, it’s just me, Maggie, twelve chickens, two horses, two pigs, two alpacas, two sheep, three goats, and a peacock. The partridge fled the pear tree a long, long time ago.
Maggie waits for my permission, wagging her tail, she knows what’s up, waits for my signal, and when given she sprints for the open field, four legs churning in unison, a small “rooster tail” in her wake, boaters and hydroplane fans will understand that reference. She goes about one hundred feet, give or take a few, stops abruptly, turns and looks at me, and I’m not making this up, my girl is smiling, and the better of my natures stands and applauds, me grinning my old ass off, figuratively, of course, and the gray skies, for a moment, turn to sunshine and bluebirds.
Again, with the figurative references.
When this happens, this stare down from afar, Maggie is waiting for my signal, and for whatever reason that signal is me spreading my arms wide and yelling “WHAT???” At which point Maggie beelines in my direction, right at me, fifty-nine pounds, four ounces of fur, muscle, and bone aimed at my legs, God help me, my groin, a runaway bundle of joy, and at the last second she veers to the right, narrowly misses me, stops immediately, looks at me, grins again and jumps straight up in the air.
And, I am laughing, and on this day I have tears in my eyes, and thankfulness in my heart, for I am experiencing life to the fullest, to the ultimate level of happiness, the old grump has been pushed aside, back into the shadows where he belongs, and Maggie is the reason for it all.
Now, in the interest of accuracy and truthfulness, I get some of the credit. I had to give up booze eighteen years ago. I had to do the work required to change who I had become, and I had to do some excavation on my foundation, digging deep to find the rot and mildew.
And, because I did the work, Maggie is my reward.
I’ve read, recently on Facebook, the accounts of several friends who have had to say goodbye to their beloved pets over the holiday season. Heartbreaking is the only word which fits, and standing out in that field, watching my joyful dog, I shudder at the thought of Maggie passing on, her being eight, average life about twelve for this breed, only four more years sharing my life with her, and I can feel the weight of melancholy, dare I say depression, settling down upon me.
But that is the old Bill, and at that moment Maggie walked over to me, licked my hand, I bent down, was rewarded with a doggie kiss, and the old Bill was sent packing once again.
I don’t know what is in store for me and my best canine friend, but I know I am a better person because she is in my life. I am a happier person. I am a contented person. I have learned to laugh spontaneously because of my girl. Let the fates do what they must, but until the final curtain falls, I am going to enjoy the hell out of life with my dog.
Thanks for joining us on this day, inching towards the new year, 2025. You are always welcome to join us. You can find us, most days, where the pavement ends and the wonders begin.
Bill
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