Anyone who knows me, at all, knows how passionately I love my dogs. They are my family, a lifeline in a crazy world, and I would do anything for them. They are both almost 14 now, so getting on in years, and have definitely aged. Their coats are still smooth and there is still a spring in their step, but they are graying around their faces, their hearing isn't as acute, their vision is obviously fading and their muzzles are becoming grizzled. They have health issues, but they still enjoy their lives, although it is a slower, quieter version. Which is to say, they are much like me.
A couple of years ago, I started each and every day watching my terrier run through the house like a maniac. It made me laugh every single time, because it was so funny to see. Slowly, I saw that start to change, and it made me sad. He no longer does that on a regular basis, although he gets a fresh wind and will take a sprint every now and then, just to remind me of how he used to be.
I have spent a lot of time and money, especially in the last couple of years, keeping them with me when others might have given up hope, because they deserve the best possible life and I want to have them as long as I possibly can. They have given me more than I could ever express in words, and I owe it to them to hang in there with them until their lives are truly over. I have realized recently, though, that it isn't just one sided. My dogs are not done with me yet, either.
I had an epiphany this morning, as I watched Gizmo stroll to his food dish. As he has fought valiently through his health problems and hung on against all odds when he should have been gone a year ago, he has taught me something I needed to learn. He has taught me to enjoy the moment, to accept the gift of the time we have, and to appreciate that small things can mean everything.
It was a needed lesson, I think. I have always been a worrier. I have always played the "What if..." game. But one day awhile back, I realized that I was so busy dreading what was to come, I wasn't enjoying the here and now. I was so fearful of tomorrow, I couldn't appreciate today.
But that is not what Gizmo and TidBit are about at all. They take whatever circumstance they are in at the moment and they live it to the fullest. If Gizmo is having an off day, he still enjoys being petted and seeks me out. If TidBit is aching from his arthritis, he will come and lay next to me instead of going off on the other side of the room, as he usually would. They take their cue from me, and base their behavior and expectations off of mine. If I am good, they are good. And if I am stressed, they are worried and unhappy.
Life is simple for them. They live joyfully in the moment. They don't worry about tomorrow, or even this afternoon. They take what they have and make the most of it in the moment they have it. Each morning they awaken, expecting good things from the day. They are happy to be alive.
I think today I will take my cue from them and find joy in this morning. I am happy to be alive, and good things will happen today.
