It happens like this: The normal routine is in place, an activity that happens every day, even, and then BAM I am struck with that sense that the creature before me is the most precious little thing I've seen in my life, ever. In that moment it is like a shockwave of recognition. Because a pet's life is often so short, there is increased weight involved in the moment. Kind of like childhood, I suppose.
This morning my little Tilly the maltese did his usual soft whimper for fresh water in the secondary water bowl. He pawed at the empty melamine dish like he had just crossed the Sahara and cried softly like he was in desperate shape. Never mind there was fresh water a few feet away. It was down two stairs which his twelve year old self didn't feel like doing. The only time he makes that certain delicate cry is when this bowl is empty. Otherwise, he is an all around pleasant little fella. As I reached down to get his bowl, he looked at me with the most insanely intense expression of love and gentleness. His mouth was frozen in a little perfect black "u"shape except for the tip of one ancient cainine tooth poking out. His hair is almost in need of a haircut, adding to his elderly snaggletooth appearance. The intensity of his brown eyes, even though they are starting to get shadowy cataracts, was undeniable and I couldn't look away. Finally I got him his fresh water, he got his drink, bounded down the stairs and joyfuly "pa-pinged" his way to his kitchen bed. He jumped like a bunny rabbit across the floor and was visibly excited to be the first one on the bed this morning. His whole body radiates joy when he is happy, and he is happy most of the time. On walks, he no longer needs a leash and stays a bit ahead of me, joyfully bounding down the sidewalk exploring and just loving life. I can't help but laugh, smile, and love him more than anything in the world.
Maybe because he is the first dog I've had on my own as an adult. Maybe because we have been through so much together. Maybe because he is so tiny and white and fluffy and cute. Maybe because he is getting older, and I know he won't be here forever. Whatever the reason, I adore this little man as much as is possible, and believe that if I'd had I "real" kid, the love would be the same.
Now, Toby is another story for another day. Sigh. Onward to a good Friday and then a week off to clean the above puppy, the floors, and his bedding as he looks like a street dog and they all smell like street dogs, too. Cheers!