THE CHRISTMAS PUP, BING

Bing thinking.jpg

I was out with the pups the other day and took a moment to sit down with a sigh. There are times, when the simplest of tasks seem insurmountable. Perhaps I’ve over done it and the headaches worsen or a lack of sleep creeps up on me and I tire before I have begun. Mostly though, it is when my thoughts exhaust me that I weaken. I would gladly forget the tumour in my head if I could. I could disguise the headaches and poor sleep as part of the aging process but the lack of feeling on parts of my face would remind me always that something looming.  

Bing, one of the nine-week-old pups we have from Attawapiskat, must have heard me sigh or wondered why he wasn’t in my arms because he came to stand in front of me. He gave me a look of concern and I felt I owed him an explanation. I told him I felt broken and worn. I explained how I was juggling test results, medical opinions and varying prognoses. That I was weighing risks, results and potential outcomes. I admitted to a puppy that I didn’t know what to do.

Bing happens to be a very sensitive and thoughtful boy. He is an orphan pup which accounts for his depth of emotional understanding. I don’t think it was just my imaginings when I sensed him asking, “but what do you feel?” I had to pause and consider my answer. Bing closed his eyes and thought with me.

I felt a need for peace. I had been struggling with concerns and battling unknowns for months and I just wanted to let go. I wanted quiet time. The kind of time when acceptance, understanding and awareness floats up within. I knew there would be change but how I greeted it was up to me. Who would I be in this next chapter and what would my life look like? I had been thinking outside myself and not of myself.

Bing opened his eyes and I smiled. He didn’t seem to mind the time it had taken for me to realize what he woke up knowing every morning - live in the moment, be present in your own life and chase whatever the wind blows your way.

Bing smiled too I think and I bent to pick him up. He is my Christmas miracle and the other three pups are my glee, joy and delight. I put Bing down so he could dance in the snow with the others then threw a snowball for them all to chase. The wonder of that moment banished worry, confusion and immediate plans for a second surgery. I will be bold and brave again but for now, I need to frolic foolishly with puppies and sit silently while absorbing the wisdom of dogs.  

That’s how I feel and what I know for now. Thank you, Bing.