Just a Dog

I am not foolish enough to think that mine is the first life that a dog has saved, nor am I so greedy to hope that it is the last.  But I am honest enough to know that I was the luckiest one among them all.

20 hours and a cluster of minutes, I have sat with this loss.  I lost track of time; singing, cradling, praying over my sweet Frodo as his departure from this life occurred.  I keep trying to think, was it 15 minutes, was it 5? I just know it was choppy; all of the thoughts. 
It will be okay Fro, you are OK. 
Oh Sweet Boy,
I am here,
please know that I am here. 
Rocking you, squeezing you
I will get you help

Then it shifted, I felt it, I knew.

 he was dying

Smooth, everything smoothed out.  Slowing down, no more rushing to save him, slowly singing, slowly swaying, I prayed for peace, his peace. And quickly. I let go, not of his body, but of his spirit.  I thanked him as my three year old watched TV.  I thanked him for running from me, and not being potty trained until 5 years ago.  It gives me patience for my daughter. I thanked him for loving me.  And I told him he could go, and I would be okay.  A reel of thoughts and whispers and memories and life, his life, consumed me.  His body in my arms for hours after he left. 

It was the end of March 2002, I drove to Apache Junction after receiving a phone call that he was mine.  The breeder told me she liked my voice.  She called the original buyer and told her she could have first pick of the next litter if she passed on the black runt pug pup.  She took my $200 and a two week post dated check.  I told her I could come back for him when my check cleared.  So 22 of me; getting a dog because it was on my list of things to do that day.  Money, schmoney.  Instead she handed me my first baby.  She handed me eleven years of love, grace and unwavering loyalty.  Little did she know that when she placed that little boy in my hands, she was in fact handing me the only thing that could save my life. 

I have moved away from calling myself a wreck and saying that I was broken.  My existence was just sad.  Depression, Anorexia, Alcoholism, I felt terminal.  But this sweet boy greeted me every morning.  Years of the push and pull, my desire for insanity and my quest for ease never put me on solid ground.  A constant, just a dog.  Sure he was just a dog.  Just a...

Moves, breakups, college graduation, heartbreaks, a dear friends suicide, my grandfather's last breath, grandmother's(two, kissed and gone) sobering up, falling down, an engagement, a wedding, pregnancy: twice, birth of a little girl; and then another one. So much life in 11 years.  I don't know when I got "okay".  But it happened.  Then okay went to good.  And good to great, great to today.

Wednesday I got what might have been the best news to me.  Hypercholesterelemia (fancy word for high cholesterol) runs in my family.  I have been on medicine since I started Kindergarten. It was Aisley's turn for the diagnosis.  The one I couldn't imagine being normal.  Her doctor called, blood tests were consistent with an average three year old girl.  I didn't pass it on to her.  Relief is tangible.  I felt a deep joy bloom. 

Maybe 7 years ago, I found myself at the Mayo Clinic talking to an ENT.  He told me he would not treat me unless I started taking my heart health seriously.  I think he meant that I should be treating my 400+ cholesterol with my prescribed medication, the one that I hadn't taken in at least a year.  I probably rolled my eyes.  Not one of my finer moments.  Later. 7 months into my second pregnancy,  trying to get a life insurance policy, denied due to high cholesterol.  It was 398. 

This past Monday was when Aisley and I had our blood drawn together; hers for a diagnosis, mine for a reference.  I started a low dose of a statin two months ago, I haven't been on meds for four years. This time under the direct supervision of my cardiologist. I wasn't expecting much change.  It was a day to be wrong.  My results given to me by a nurse, LDL 107 HDL 30.  Never in my life, since my very first lipid profile, even on medication had I gotten below 250. I was thrilled and proud.  I HAVE changed for the better, for the healthy. 

Wait, this is about Frodo.  I promise there is congruence. 

His passing was swift.  And all things considered I will be forever grateful that I was home and that I was here.   Joe told me that his death was quick because his purpose had been fulfilled.  I wanted to believe that.  And then I did.  I am the happiest and healthiest I have ever been.  Never before has that been more true. I got my blood results and within 24 hours he was gone. 

Frodo escorted me, he herded me, he connected me to this plane when I wanted nothing to do with it.  Frodo was my tunnel vision.  Frodo was my saving grace. Frodo was just my dog.  Frodo was just my life, until I could take care of it.  And now he has assured me that no matter what, I can.  And for him, I will.

I love you Frodo
January 28, 2002-August 1, 2013