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I've been away for too long...
Jan. 9th, 2006 10:32 amHello, all! Sorry I've been silent so long. Life has been busy, both at work and at home. I'm trying to get back into a regular rhythm again, so I thought I'd post something other than a meme. ;)
Last Friday morning, I had to take our dog to the vet. She had broken a claw the night before and was bleeding all over the floor. For those of you that haven't met her, Saffron is a rather neurotic blonde shar pei. If you're trying to picture her, she looks more like a miniature dingo.
Saffron and her late sister, Sha'ir, joined our family nearly seven years ago, just after we moved into our house. Sha'ir was as black as a gorilla, and had a beautiful "sad hobo clown" kind of a face. She was extremely friendly, but a little aloof, a lot like a good cat. Saffron has a perpetually worried look about her, and is easily terrified by new people or unfamiliar objects.
When Saffron and I arrived at the vet, she was cheerful and excited, which is very unusual for her. I think she has finally gotten over her fear of the building and the doctor, and sees it as a familiar place. Going in the door, she bounded in, looking around to see who she would meet in the lobby. There were a beagle puppy and a bichon frise ahead of us, and a German shepherd behind us in line. It was good to see her happy and alert, even with a painful broken claw.
When the assistant took us back to an exam room, though, it was my mood that changed. We were in exam room four, the room where I said goodbye to Sha'ir. She had a very painful, inoperable hiatal hernia, and she met her rest in my arms about two years ago, after months of pain and horrible medication. Saffron searched the room, looking for the doctor while I sat and held in the tears. Then she turned to me with the odd, quizzical look that is permanently wrinkled onto her face, and I explained to her that I would be all right, that there was nothing to worry about. She was satisfied that I wasn't going to pieces, and went on sniffing about the room. Another assistant came in, one that takes an anatomy class with Zed, and we talked for a while about how different, how "more complete" Saffron is now that she's the only dog at our house. She has a newfound confidence, a definite spring in her step, and for the first time, she strikes me as a "whole dog." Until Sha'ir left us, they had never been apart a day in their lives.
What Saffron has learned is something I am learning, to be a "whole person." I never realized that she had something she could teach me before. ;)
Last Friday morning, I had to take our dog to the vet. She had broken a claw the night before and was bleeding all over the floor. For those of you that haven't met her, Saffron is a rather neurotic blonde shar pei. If you're trying to picture her, she looks more like a miniature dingo.
Saffron and her late sister, Sha'ir, joined our family nearly seven years ago, just after we moved into our house. Sha'ir was as black as a gorilla, and had a beautiful "sad hobo clown" kind of a face. She was extremely friendly, but a little aloof, a lot like a good cat. Saffron has a perpetually worried look about her, and is easily terrified by new people or unfamiliar objects.
When Saffron and I arrived at the vet, she was cheerful and excited, which is very unusual for her. I think she has finally gotten over her fear of the building and the doctor, and sees it as a familiar place. Going in the door, she bounded in, looking around to see who she would meet in the lobby. There were a beagle puppy and a bichon frise ahead of us, and a German shepherd behind us in line. It was good to see her happy and alert, even with a painful broken claw.
When the assistant took us back to an exam room, though, it was my mood that changed. We were in exam room four, the room where I said goodbye to Sha'ir. She had a very painful, inoperable hiatal hernia, and she met her rest in my arms about two years ago, after months of pain and horrible medication. Saffron searched the room, looking for the doctor while I sat and held in the tears. Then she turned to me with the odd, quizzical look that is permanently wrinkled onto her face, and I explained to her that I would be all right, that there was nothing to worry about. She was satisfied that I wasn't going to pieces, and went on sniffing about the room. Another assistant came in, one that takes an anatomy class with Zed, and we talked for a while about how different, how "more complete" Saffron is now that she's the only dog at our house. She has a newfound confidence, a definite spring in her step, and for the first time, she strikes me as a "whole dog." Until Sha'ir left us, they had never been apart a day in their lives.
What Saffron has learned is something I am learning, to be a "whole person." I never realized that she had something she could teach me before. ;)
