...leave paw-shaped dents in my heart.
There are days when I wonder what sort of miracle fell into my lap the day Bear’s life crash landed into mine, but then those not-so little paw prints manage to wriggle their way into my soul and suddenly it doesn’t really matter how Bear and I came together – what matters is that we did.
There are not many people who understand the bond that Bear and I have. In fact, many people will tell me that I am much too attached to him, but how can you explain the connection forged through pain and blood and tears? Or the agony of holding a pup in your arms while grinding tablets of pain medication into warm milk with the knowledge that if help doesn’t come through, that deadly concoction would be going down his throat in order to save him from future agony?
There’s no way. There’s no explanation.
There is only the sheer joy of the telephone ringing with hope in the form of a potentially life-saving prescription. There is only the relief of hearing a plane buzz over your house, knowing that its cargo contains the pills that could save his life. Or the wonder of watching the deadly swell of internal bleeding and infection that could have claimed his life as it slowly begins to shrink before your eyes.
Bear and I have literally faced death together – his.
And we won.
|Photo by My Firkin Dog Photography|
When all is said and done, watching Bear frolic through snow drifts, leaving those wonderful paw prints in the snow only reminds me of the days when we weren’t sure whether he would survive the night, let alone grow to be the wonderful adult dog that he is.
And those paw prints on my heart? They remind me that he did survive, and that he did grow, and that no matter what, our bond – forged through the pain and fear of illness and potential loss – will only grow stronger and more filled with love with each passing day.
Keep your tails wagging