While our friend and neighbor was in the hospital…as her illness doctors tried to catalogue…we watched over her house…her yard…and took care of her old dog.
Her old dog doesn’t get around as easy as he use to…his hearing’s poor so he doesn’t heed our calls…he has trouble getting up…sometimes he stumbles…occasionally he falls.
He does not see as clearly as he once did so his pace is tentative, measured and slow…his bladder is old which means it wakes him up in the middle of the night and tells him…it’s time to go.
Oh my gosh! He gets up in the middle of the night to go…he’s unsteady on his feet…he has trouble hearing and cannot always see…I just realized her old dog…sounds a lot like me!
I was lamenting this fact…as I took him out in the middle of the night to go…
saying over and over and over to myself…tell me it isn’t so.
But as I watched him in the yard…while his owner was convalescing…I thought there are some wonderful characteristics of her old dog…that I wouldn’t mind possessing.
Her old dog doesn’t care what gender I am, my sexual orientation…If I’m yellow, red or black.
Her old dog doesn’t care what country I’m from…if it’s Mexico, China or Iraq.
Her old dog doesn’t care what God I pray to…or if a belief in God I lack.
Her old dog doesn’t care how rich I am…If I live in a mansion or a shack.
No, it appears her old dog…like all dogs…have this wonderful inherent knack…
that if we give them love…without restrictions…they will love us back.
A moment ago I was a bit dismayed as I found myself declaring…
all the characteristics her old dog and this old dog are sharing….
Now I feel differently….and as I come to the end of this poetic monologue…
I would be honored if there comes a day
when this old dog…
yes, even in the middle of the night…
is compared to her old dog.
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