Life goes on. Despite thinking at times that it cannot, or that things will never be the same, the truth is: they never are the same. And still, life goes on.
My life has taken turns that I never expected. Some have been challenging, some thrilling and some terribly sad. To do less than look forward to the challenges of tomorrow would dishonor the memory of the wonderful people and brilliant dogs I have know. You know, of course, that I am still thinking of Jinx. We planted a tree in her memory that a schutzhund friend gave us, scattering some of her ashes there so that Jinx would live and grow again. It is a lovely baby blue spruce, planted so that we can see it from the living and dining room. It will give shelter to birds, and I can already envision decorating it at Christmas. Thank you, Chuck, for a gift that celebrates life.
As sad as that loss has been, if I would have stopped loving when I lost Eros, I would not have loved Sofie; if I had stopped at Sofie, there would be no Digit, no Quinn and no Jinx. And if I refused to surrender my heart after Jinx, there would be nothing for Cooper or Ridley or the dogs that may come after them.
The other day a man I know said that if his current young dog had bad hips, that would be it for him. That he couldn't or wouldn't handle another dog. I have to admit that this has never crossed my mind. To toss away all the good, all the lessons for one or even two set-backs? I have had more unexpected injuries, illnesses and issues than I have fingers on both hands. I don't know that I am more of an optimist than many, but I do know that l refuse to stop living, to stop learning and looking forward to tomorrow. I fully expect that a good dog will be at my side.
After taking time to reflect, the sad little faces of my under-worked dogs beckoned me. I started a walking regiment and every morning this week have taken a dog for a walk on the local recreational trail. I imagine the walks Jinx and I took there with fondness as I lay down new footprints, matched in step by a set of pawprints. I'm quite certain that sometimes, in the outer fringes of my vision, I see a malinois matching pace.
