My Leonberger Girl turned 9 yesterday.
It is a bit of a milestone for Ammulett, and for me, to have come so far together, yet knowing we are closer to parting than ever before. Eight to ten years is usually a life time for a Leonberger, but it can also be a blink of an eye. Time is a relative thing.
It flashes past or crawls by, depending on our desires and needs. Of course it is a necessary tool as we have appointments to keep and places to be and things to do that revolve around the ticking of the clock. It would be nice to be more like the other animals. Animals do not hear the tic-tock. They have the ‘now’.
Nine years have passed quickly in some respects. I can still feel her baby body in my hands on the night she was born and remember with wonder that God could create such a beautiful being, such perfection and I could be so fortunate as to hold her. The anticipation of spending the rest of our lives together was a heady dream that night; what would she be like, what would we learn together, where would we travel, what laughter would we share, would she have babies and could they possibly be as perfect as she? We drove down life’s road together on that evening almost to the end but not quite. The end of the journey was a long way off and there would be many tic-tocks before I had to think of that.
Now, her five daughters are six years old and her ten grandchildren are three years old and under… all as perfect as she of course. Eighteen months. Three years. Six years. Yesterday was nine years. Her face is grey. She doesn’t move like she used to and needs a boost to get into my bed. She can still chase a squirrel with her daughters but today I had to help her up from the ground to do so. It reminded me of how many ticks of the clock we had left. And I know no matter how many remain, it will not be enough. So I hug her for a long time and kiss her because when I do I cannot hear the clock in that place we are together; that place that holds now and eternity in the same moment.
Tomorrow has not arrived yet and whatever it holds remains beyond. I have now and today with Ammulett. And that makes everyday a gift.