Finding the way

My friends in Blogville have done it again. I was so humbled by the outpouring of your good wishes, prayers, thoughts, and love. It really does make a huge difference. Thank you.

Last night, with a heavy heart, K and I hiked up to our favorite sunset view point. We just sat, watching the wind blow clouds across the mountains as the sun set. I talked to her, remembering the day that I'd met her.

On that day, I was given the choice of two female chocolate lab pups. For some reason, there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that K was the dog for me.

Yesterday evening, in my mind, I rewrote the script. I imagined that I'd been told that the little pup "K" lacked a key "tumor suppression gene" and was likely to die young. But, I'd also been told that our spirits would mesh in a way that would bring us both incredible joy. In this imagined conversation, I was also told that the other pup would live twice as long as K. Yet, just as happened in reality, I didn't have the same spark of love when I held that pup as when I held K.

Given that scenario, I'd still choose K every single time. She has brought such happiness to my life, and I hope that I've done the same for her. I don't care about the heartbreak of an early death. It's the living and loving that matters.

This morning, still with a heavy heart, I hiked out the door with K. I was focused climbing to our favorite place, Hug Hill. Despite her chemo treatment yesterday, K romped and frolicked. Yet again, she was teaching me a life lesson. She wants to live fully - now.

As I hauled my heavy heart up the snow-laden slope, K played and smiled. She found a spot of green and rolled on the warm ground, before trotting toward me, with resplendent chocolate fur.

I realized, as I watched her, that this day was one precious day of K's life. Who cares that there might not be as many days left as I hoped? K certainly doesn't care. We can't waste these precious days being sad about something that will happen in the future.

We arrived at the top, and K zipped around joyfully. This is our special spot, and it has been since K was a couple of months old.

Then, I asked her to be still, and I had a talk with her. I made a lot of promises. I promised not to let sadness dominate the remainder of her life. I promised that I would always be there for her, and that I'd try to put her wishes ahead of mine. I promised not to let her suffer. I'm sure that she didn't understand the details but she certainly felt the love that I was sending to her. She snuzzled me, and I cried tears of sadness and joy - joy that this loving and sweet dog is in my life.

(Excuse my "mountain" attire - I wasn't dressed for a photoshoot this morning.).

As we descended from the peak, I knew that we'd find a way to navigate this journey together. Love will lead the way, and we'll seize each day that we have left.

K is part of the fabric of my heart and always will be.