Brownie and Audrey

On the way to the library this morning, Audrey and I passed a German shepherd's body. He had been killed by a vehicle, and his head was decapitated. I have never seen that before and hope I don't again. I immediately flashed back to Brownie, my chocolate lab, still a young dog not even a year old, who was killed on the paved road up at the head of our lane. I had all the puppies in that fenced-in backyard, but I forgot that I had not put a fence on the ground along the sides of the fence so they could not dig their way out. The puppies were so young that there was no chance that they could dig their way out before I could find the hole. But one night, we had a female dog come into heat, and the puppies' father, Bear, went into rut and began barking incessantly in the front yard where the female was. I got out of bed and sleepily put him into the backyard pen with his puppies. Then I went back to bed and woke up around 1 a.m. when I heard dogs barking. I hurried outside and found Bear with a contingent of puppies down at the pond, a dangerous place to be because of cottonmouths. I took them back to the pen and saw that Bear had dug his way under the fence trying to get to the female in heat, and the puppies had followed him out. But not all the puppies were accounted for. Fearing the worst, I hurried up to the paved road and found Chockie sitting in shock on the edge of the road. My beloved Brownie was splattered 17 yards up the road from the impact of the truck. I found the tire marks, and the driver had locked up, making a heroic efforts to avoid the labs but couldn't. I was very close to Brownie, and it was reciprocated. Whenever I went outside to check on the puppies, Brownie would always get up and come to me. Even if I checked on them in the middle of the night, the rest of the puppies would remain lying on the ground, but Brownie would come to me. I dug his grave, but could not make myself bury him. I did not want to give him up, and did so only when the maggots appeared on him.
Now that I've talked about the young and the tragic, I will weigh in with something about the old and the positive. When Audrey picks me up for the trip into town, I have started asking her,
What's better?" I think this is important because older people often get into a morose rut. At first, Audrey would not even say anything, but I would go ahead and say what was better with me. I kept asking her, and then she came around to saying, "Nothing." I kept at it until now she had something that's better every day and is now asking me, "What's better?" It makes for a much brighter ambience in the car. I also asked her if she would like to build up her strength and posture. Since she was willing and quickly found some dumbbells, I had her begin with one set of 10 dumbbell bicep curls. She's now doing two sets. We washed some cleaning rags at the laundromat Monday, and I noticed how she was throwing the bags of wet rags around. She must have noticed me looking for she said, "I feel so much stronger in my arms and back of my legs now that I'm lifting those dumbbells." As long as you're alive, it's never too late to make things better.
Until we rendezvous, may it be The Path Of Love for you with the wind in your back, my friend. Two-Guns at peternickerson12@yahoo.com.