|Lies, all of them lies|
A moment must come, though, when you just know the young dog who sailed six feet off the ground is no more.
Tonight came that moment for me. After work, I took Mina to get some dog treats. As we left the store, in the darkened parking lot, Mina ran nose-first into a car's bumper.
Objectively I had noticed how her night vision diminished, how she would sometimes start, surprised, when I would walk upon her in the yard. If the moon is new, I sometimes catch Mina tossing her head up and down in the fall leaves, trying to figure out home base's location. In our darkened hallway, I have caught Mina by surprise, meeting in the middle. She had not seen me coming.
Still, I guess I had convinced myself they were flukes. A momentary lapse in judgment on Mina's part. Tonight, I could not dismiss the reality before me. Mina had just plowed into the bumper of a Toyota Prius. She is environmentally considerate, at least. Her vision is diminished, as is her body and strength.
I am not prepared for the sorrow of Mina gone. It will be years from now, I'm sure, but it will still be too soon. She is a scar upon my heart and I like it to be alive and warm, thanks. Imagining this moment without her is unfathomable. She who is nestled behind me on the sofa, a firm believer that the best and safest spot is wedged behind her favorite human. She who is snoring in a delicate way, dreaming paws tripping over some foreign soil. She who licks away salty tears made perfectly for her.
I hope you have a dog like Mina now or in the past or in the future. Sometimes I think she might be a one-of-a-kind deal and part of me swells with hope at that prospect. To hold your heart out, knowing it won't come back unscathed, is risky business.
Mina ran into a car tonight. And while I fight fiercely against the inevitable, Mina sings in her dreams and shares her soul when awake.