Leap of Faith

This is a post only fellow dog lovers would understand.

(Michael, move along now.)




I've posted many times about our wonderful dog, Zoe. She is my best four-legged companion – always lying by my side, ready to gaze up at me with those sad-looking, big doe eyes of hers.

She is now 12 years old, actually closer to 13. She has stiff, painful arthritis in all of her legs. She struggles to get into a standing position to follow me around each time I move. It pains me to watch her do this knowing I'm just going across the room only to return to my original spot a moment later. But each time, she does. She only wants to be by my side at all times.

Zoe quit doing the stairs in our house about three years ago. When I head up to my office to work, she faithfully plants herself at the foot of the stairs, waiting for my return. There is a story in our boys' Ripley's Believe It or Not book about a dog who was so faithful to it's master that upon the master's death, the dog laid at the grave site each day until it's own death years later. I think that if this were the case with Zoe and me, she would do the same. The Swede reminds me that her devotion to me is completely driven by the fact that I feed her. I disagree.

Last week, the flooring guys had to carry her up to my office while they worked on the floors. For the first time, I saw how old she has become. She was uncomfortable out of her surroundings. She trailed urine behind her as she nervously went from room to room. And, for the first time, I thought maybe we're keeping her alive for our own selfish reasons.

I had an awful day that day. I cried so hard knowing that the day we make that decision isn't far off. My heart is aching already. I shared my thoughts with The Swede who reassured me that she still has quality of life. She still loves to walk around our front yard, sniffing the base of each tree to see who's been by. She still loves to follow me around the house. Sadly, there will be a day where the pain will win out and she will choose to stay in place rather than get up and follow. Who knows when that will be. Next week? Next month? Will she make it to Christmas? Her birthday in February? Those thoughts go through my head each day.

I had to refill her medication yesterday. They asked if I wanted our usual 90-day supply. Hmmm. I said, "Yes, please, 90 days worth". I took a leap of faith that she will still be here by my side for all that time, although my gut is telling me that she won't need all 90 days.