I called out my car window, “You make my day!” The crossing guard smiles big and waves big to every passing vehicle on her corner. I will miss her morning start this summer.
Boots is home from the hospital. It was a long day Thursday. I left Pittsburgh at 9:30 AM in the rain planning to stop a couple of places along the way before picking her up. On the drive, the vet called me with an update. She hit her ear against the cage during the night and started to bleed. He wanted to sedate her to clean it out again. I had the day to kill in Wild and Wonderful West Virginia.
I walked in to a full house at the vet and more pets coming for the rabies clinic at 6 PM. This is a popular place with a receptionist who greets and recognizes each pet and needs to ask for the human’s name to find the chart. I waited patiently for Boots to come to me. I kept thinking of pets and children who have no control over their own lives. Boots came into the exam room excited to see me. I hoped she hadn’t thought I had abandoned her. She had her silly looking cone around her neck but it was cloth instead of plastic. “It’s for your own good so you don’t do damage to the restructured ear.”
We got in the car and she was in my lap trying to get in my face but inhibited by the collar. We headed home with medications and her big brown eyes watching me. I wanted to know what she was thinking. Someone said that was my problem, delving beneath the surface to understand better. But her eyes melt me. Do you ever wish you knew what your pet thought and felt instead of endowing it with your own humanity or depriving it of any feeling as some do? I admit her needs sometimes overwhelm me. But are those eyes the deep well of love or accusation or acceptance? When we reached the street where she lives she sat up impatiently waiting for the door to open to home.