My Growing Buddy

Okay, it has been over a year and Quincey will be two in November. He's grown quite a bit. He's even starting to loose that long and lanky look of a teenage pup. I think I can safely say, at this point, that my dog knows me better than I know myself. He has been through a lot with me and has taken it all in stride.

Last summer he got his first taste of a swimming pool and was terrified but tried and learned to stay on top of the water. This year, his skill at swimming is improving at an alarming rate and his confidence in the water grows. I am amazed at how he takes his running leaps into the cold river on these hot Sacramento summer days. There was this point where he just found his sea legs and kept on swimming. I taught him how not to fear water; he taught me how important it is, as a leader and teacher, to know when to let go.

We went to a friend's house for the holiday. Fourth of July is a particularly difficult holiday for dogs. Imagine, having such acute hearing that you have the ability hear other dog's clinking tags from as much as 120 yards away. Dogs hear what we can't. They may not have the best eyesight in the animal kingdom but I am glad that no human has the capacity to eavesdrop with such skill. Since the 4th usually sounds like a night in Kabul, many dogs cower, shake and have a rough night as a result.

At first he was nervous about swimming, as was I. I kept showing him, patiently, where the stairs to the pool were. At one point, he kept squirming and I thought, "oh, he's getting tired, I better pull him out," but he just kept jumping in. My arms started getting really tired, then I realized what the squirming was about. He was trying to tell me that I could let go of him and let him swim on his own. As soon as I let go, he started swimming in these circles, then these kooky figure eights and finally (because believe me, I was holding my breath) he got to the stairs and climbed up, panting with this huge smile on his face. He looked up at me, beaming. I felt so proud of him, I started tearing up.

I have had three miscarriages. I will never know "the joys of motherhood," to the extent that is considered the norm but I love my little buddy and wouldn't trade these experiences for anything in the world. He keeps me on track, abates my depression, helps me to cope, prevents me from wallowing and keeps me strongly grounded in reality.


We are friends for life.