We bonded fast. I spend hours training her. Not just in puppy class, but all the time. For treats, for food, for anything, we trained. And we walked. And we drove. And when I was overwhelmed with love for her, I'd ask "who's my best girl?" With her head cocked to the side, she knew the answer was her.
I'd never had a pup before. I didn't know if I was doing it right, so I read about crate training and alpha status. I'm grateful my sweet girl was patient with me learning how to raise her. I messed up a lot.
But she and I had, and still have, this sort of intuition. I could teach her things like "excise me", or "people [upstairs] first". She learned that upstairs and downstairs are directions, not places. She can tell her left paw from her right. She decided cookies were magic.
She got sick a few months after we brought her home and I didn't know what I was supposed to do. So I laid on the hard wood floor next to her and listened to her whimper. She must have known to be grateful, even though she didn't have to be.
Then a couple years later, she had knee surgery. We moved into the basement together. We slept in a pile. My boyfriend didn't seem to worry about it, but for a few weeks I stayed with her. Then we rehabbed that knee and she learned "put your foot down." Why? Because I needed her to walk.
She returned the favors. Broken. Battered. Relationship in shambles with no one to really talk to about it, she stayed with me, night after night, as I slept far away on another floor. Her daddy upstairs, but she stayed always with me.
When we finally broke up, so many years later, she joined me upstairs, a privelege she wasn't allowed to have before. And she's slept with me almost every night since July 2, 2011 when he moved out.
Straight away, she slept at my side. On me. Touching me. I think she was trying to say "it's ok mommy; I'm still here." When I didn't want to get out of bed for so many months, she just sort of patiently waited. When someone else joined in the bed, she slept in between us. For awhile I thought she couldn't decide, but I think now I know she wanted to be sure I was safe. She knows a lot if I'd just listen.
And now it's my turn again, to remain steadfast and strong, as her body gets weaker and she grows old. So I reach over to scratch her hips at night and she rolls as far as she can muster energy for, so I can get to her chest. She grows impatient with waiting, and walking, and camping, and driving....and with all things except sleeping next to me in bed. So I have to remember that intuition, that bond, and rely on what's she's telling me about what she can do today --- or not do.
And why does it matter today? I'm not sure, except I was struck with love and madness and appreciation for this brindle old girl who has captivated my heart. I started thinking that someday she'll be gone from me, and I'll have to be strong and steadfast one last time. I'll have to hold her paws and whisper in her ears . I know I'll find the power to do it when it has to be done. But tonight as I listen to her breathing rhythmically next to me, I wonder how I could ever do that.
And so for tonight, she just lays here and I wrap around her and remind her "you're my best girl."
