Watching my family drive away down the road cemented the decision I had made following the school break to stay an extra week in Panorama alone with two of our dogs. I was both exhilarated, nervous, and a bit giddy as I realized that we would have to take care and rely on each other no matter what lie ahead for us. It was January 4th in the dead of winter and my back disability had robbed me of my precious independence for many years. Staying alone, excluding my two dogs, was an unexpected gift.
I looked down at my gorgeous black/white sheltie who at almost ten had regained her youthful lively exuberance when two adorable miniature dachshunds had come into her existence. So, it was only fitting that I had allowed My Kiesa girl this small pleasure in allowing her to keep one of the pups, the golden angelic Oliver to keep us both company.
I looked down at them and they looked back at me with great anticipation wondering what their Mom's next move would be.
My voice rang out joyously, "well, let's start by getting you some proper dog blankets." I took the older towels my husband had been using for the dogs and threw them aside.
Kiesa and Oliver seemed very pleased at my enthusiasm and followed me willingly to the linen closet where I pulled out two warm, large snugly flannel sheets and a comforter. So, it was in great anticipation that we all settled, after much enthusiastic fluffling of the blankets, snuggling contentedly together on the sofa.
Outside, the snow continued to blanket the trees and and despite the familiar pull of pain, I could not wipe the smile off my face.
My disability did not let me experience a feeling of independence very often and it wrapped around me as intoxicating as a warm brandy.
I was only 30 minutes in but already the "joy of winter," had exploded in my heart.
So, the week unfolded with both positive moments and some difficult ones of managing alone in pain. Typically, it would be my dogs that would uplift me every day as they embraced the new house rules with great abandon. Of course, they had to sleep in the bedroom with me as I would be too lonely and nervous without them.Oliver slept in his kennel in Mom's room and Kiesa had her cozy baby bed right beside him.
It became a rather important evening ritual watching Oliver drag his sheet proudly into Mom's room into the baby bed, fluff it and arrange it perfectly for at least two minutes before laying down utterly satisfied. Kiesa and I would watch him until I couldn't bear it and I would say one word, "Oliver," point towards his kennel and watch my small, devastated doxie walk slowly the few steps into his kennel.
Kiesa would immediately jump into the vacant little bed, flounce herself around and settle down immediately as if to say, "thanks Oliver, you made the bed stupendously for me! I couldn't bear look at Ollie who would be staring at both of us with his enormous Snoopy Dog tragic and tearful eyes, I could hardly bare it, and would take him out to at least cuddle for a few minutes and remind him that he should be at least grateful to even be in Mom's room and that I would love him to be out of the kennel but past deeds had left me with trust issues. Eventually, we would all sleep peacefully, thankfully without snoring or bad smells.
We found our routine quickly, going out quickly in the morning, eating breakfast, cuddling, going to the basket and taking out all the toys, and playing fetch with Mom. Then Oliver started his own shenanigans by continually stealing Mom's underwear particularly her bra to run joyously through the house with. Every day, I would collapse in laughter seeing this adorable golden streak peal out of the laundry room with one of my bras firmly grasped in his doxie jaws, and run like a crazy dog possessed through the house with Kiesa barking to encourage him. Oliver became a master at recognizing this undergarment stealing them from an open suitcase, a chair, etc. It seemed to become one of his missions in life, to steal as many bras from Mom as possible and distract her from her pain.
Then, every day, we would get dressed for our walk and that meant even the dogs would need to wear their coat and their boots depending on the temperature. Since walking has proved more difficult by the day, this would be a tremendous mental and physical undertaking but when you have one slightly neurotic sheltie spinning around with delight because it was time for her dog and another neurotic young doxie who would collapse like a heap of jello once he had his winter gear on....well, I simply had to give it my best. Putting on my own winter attire, I would glance nervously at Oliver, who lay stunned on the floor wondering if he would expect to be carried because I had insulted his dignity by making him wear a coat. Thankfully, the second the outside door opened, Oliver would bolt out like he had been struck by lightening so it was a relief that I had his leash firmly in my hand. So, urged on by my Oliver's new-found enthusiasm and Kiesa's joyful yips, I thrust my legs out determinedly, the wince of pain still pulsating but trying to propel that crippled spine of mine stubbornly forward into the beauty around me.
There wasn't one person on the path, it was our own exclusive winter paradise. Each step was challenging, and at times, I would feel such an explosion of pain run through my entire spine that it would make me gasp and stop momentarily. Oliver and Kiesa would fix their inquiring gaze on me to see if Mom was okay and still hopeful that we could keep walking. Everywhere I looked was so utterly beautiful. I looked back to ensure that I wasn't too far from my house, it was solely on my shoulders to make it all back safely. However, it was with steely determination that I walked my dogs today! For years, this had been one of my most beloved outdoor activities.I was determined to walk my dogs, this had for many years been one of my most treasured activities, and now with my pain, it was nearly impossible.
The weather, for winter conditions, was thankfully mild, not even the tiniest breath of wind. It was as though the angels in heaven knew that the all the pieces needed to fit to make this walk possible.
Outside, the snow continued to blanket the trees and and despite the familiar pull of pain, I could not wipe the smile off my face.
We found our routine quickly, going out quickly in the morning, eating breakfast, cuddling, going to the basket and taking out all the toys, and playing fetch with Mom. Then Oliver started his own shenanigans by continually stealing Mom's underwear particularly her bra to run joyously through the house with. Every day, I would collapse in laughter seeing this adorable golden streak peal out of the laundry room with one of my bras firmly grasped in his doxie jaws, and run like a crazy dog possessed through the house with Kiesa barking to encourage him. Oliver became a master at recognizing this undergarment stealing them from an open suitcase, a chair, etc. It seemed to become one of his missions in life, to steal as many bras from Mom as possible and distract her from her pain.
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