Today our sweet-natured 20-year-old dog, Sierra died. Yes, you read that correctly, 20-years-old. When we brought her into the vet this afternoon, I asked him how many 20-year-old dogs he had in his care, and he said "none."
We brought Sierra home 15 years ago as a rescue dog. The people at PAWS could tell that she already had at least one litter of puppies, and had been probably abused, as she was very skittish around men. But she was welcomed into our family of three kids, a cat and another little rescue puppy named Edgar.
Sierra was the easiest of our pets. She was a gentle soul, whose only annoying habit was that she would often snap at invisible flies in the air. As she aged, she lost her fear of men and would just come up to you and place her head on your lap. There was something about her that drew people in, and never more so than in the last few years of her life. In fact, a friend of mine thinks that she lived so long because she had to make sure that our family was going to be all right after Matthew died. I guess she finally realized we were going to be okay, and she made her transition.
So many people have written about dogs and their remarkable ability for unconditional love, that I really don't think I can add much to it. We are all just so grateful that we had such a long time with Sierra. As I drove home this afternoon from the vet's office, raindrops were splattering down all around me, while at the same time the sun was sending giant rays through these big, white puffy clouds. All I could think about was how life is full of paradoxes, and they keep showing up at my doorstep. Sun and Rain. Grief and Gratitude. Life and Death. I've got to keep paying attention.
In honor of Sierra, here's one of Mary Oliver's "Percy" poems.
Little Dogs Rhapsody in the Night
He puts his cheek against mine
and makes small, expressive sounds.
And when I'm awake, or awake enough
he turns upside down, his four paws
in the air
and his eyes dark and fervent.
Tell me you love me, he says.
Tell me again.
Could there be a sweeter arrangement?
Over and over
he gets to ask it.
I get to tell.