Friday, October 01, 2010
I made a movie of my dog navigating our very scary indoor stairs. She does this every morning. Some days she's faster than others. Some days she's hesitant. This is after three months of being blind.
I've watched this movie a lot of times. I've showed others it. Proud of her. Of her bravery and figuring it all out. Of making it work.
There are new health issues with Wink, and I'm close to having a pity party over here. So many tears. Vacillating between cries of "Why is this happening?" to "What can we do?" to "How are we going to cope with more of this?" Wink has a bad cough caused by a loose esophagus, and why is the big question. It's all very technical. And devastating.
And then I watch this movie. She is not feeling sorry for herself. She is not opting out of life. She is not crying and complaining. She is figuring it out, learning a new way to measure space with her paws—you can see this if you watch the clip over and over and over like I have.
I'm trying to let my sadness and grief pass through me, and move on to the place of making it work. In the meantime, I'm watching this movie, and the other new one of her coughing spasms. She coughs and throws up, and keeps wagging her tail with joy. (I won't make you watch that one too). Make it work, people. Make it work.