Nico's Story: How Do I Love Thee?

Thunder

How Do I Love Thee?

All day yesterday Thunder was acting very strangely . Then he didn't eat his supper, very un-Thunder, and shortly after was sick. At first we wondered if he'd had a minor stroke, later it seemed he'd being struck by some sudden infection or illness. Today, however, he seems back to his normal self. We are investigating the source of whatever his problem was or is, but Rick and I are not the only ones relieved at his apparent recovery. Because we weren't sure what was wrong with him, and because he was acting so strangely, we kept him out of the play yard and isolated from Benny and Nico.

That meant that except when I took Benny up to play, Nico was alone in the yard. The play-yard integration program continues apace -- a discussion of our strategies and progress there over the last week or so is forthcoming -- but the two young boys are not ready to be left alone there yet. So Nico slept alone, spent most of his yard-time alone. He doesn't protest; he has lots of space up there and is endlessly entertained by squirrels and other small creatures with a death wish who find their way near by. He gets out for hours of long walks with me, and shorter walks with Benny, and his house time when he lies by my side at my desk remains important to him. But this morning when Thunder came into the yard with him as usual, Nico's relief and happiness was unmistakable.

It's not that there were effusive greetings and expressions of concerns such as workplace friends exchange when someone returns from an illness. Nico just followed Thunder around the yard, very close for a few minutes, his tail drifting slowly backwards and forwards. Then they both lay down, close together, like they always do, very relaxed, the picture of mutual ease and contentment.

We are of course delighted that Thunder has bounced back from whatever it was that afflicted him yesterday. Our vet is carefully guiding us through the possible implications of the physical signs and his behavioral changes. If and when a cause is found we will treat him accordingly. However Thunder is somewhere around twelve years old. That's a pretty good age for a Malamute, and although we hope to have him in our daily lives for many more years yet, the Benny initiative is driven by the sure knowledge that the time will come, likely sooner rather than later, for him to leave us all behind.

That will be a heart breaker, not just for us, but, as this morning's happy reconciliation scene shows, also for Nico. So we continue to work at the Benny integration project. Our success there is tinged with just a undertone of regret at the necessity. But Benny is very steady, sensible puppy, and well on his way becoming a smart, well adjusted, thinking dog. Even if we were not anticipating needing another dog to become Nico's outdoor companion, he would be a fine addition to our lives. He brings us much delight and happiness. He has compelled Nico to a maturity and controlled way of being with other dogs he could not have attained any other way. All three of our boys are teaching us more about dog-dog relationships than any behavioral dissertation or training manual could ever describe.

Necessity drives change; but change is a chance to learn and to grow. As always, our dogs lead the way. Rick and I were sitting at the table the other day and one of us said, “How do I love thee?” And we answered as one, “Let me count the dogs.” Benny could not have come too soon because he is a great dog in his own right. We hope to be counting our love by way of three dogs for many days and nights to come, but yesterday's experience affirmed for us that we should not have waited any longer before bring another dog home. We cannot help but be grateful to the dog-gods for sending us Benny with his particular strengths of character and personality to keep our pack whole.

As for Thunder he was, is and always will be the love of my life. Last night he slept near me: we kept him in so I could watch for trouble. He lay quietly beside me, his breath coming easy now, his big chest moving up and down in its normal, easy ryhthm, and I told him

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with a passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.*

These lines are Elizabeth Barrett Browning's, who also loved dogs. Even though she penned this sonnet to a man, I'm sure she knew such pure commitment of heart could only be met in kind by a dog.