The hole in our lives

When I wrote my first post I was sitting up in bed, surrounded by animals. One of them was Hank, a lab we adopted earlier in the week. We got Hank because we had a hole in our family, left by the death of our special dog, Bennie, last November.

Let me take a minute and tell you about Bennie. He and I had a very special bond. Three years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had a 'lumpectomy' (not as minor as it sounds, by the way) and radiation. I feel ever so grateful that I didn't need chemo.. I thought the radiation would be a piece of cake. Right. It started out okay, for the first week of a treatment every morning for six weeks. I was still able to take Bennie to the lake for our two mile walks when I got home and on the weekend. We'd done that everyday that the weather allowed us to for several years. He loved these walks. When he saw me sit down to put my walking shoes on he jumped and hopped and yipped as if he had just won the doggie lottery. During our walk, while I was covering two miles, he would range out into the sage brush, or into the willows, sniffing and doing what makes dogs happy. Periodically he'd peek out of the bushes to make sure I was still within romping distance and then continue on his quest.

It became more and more difficult to find the energy to put on those shoes and drive to the lake. Bennie would sit down in front of me, cock his head and put his ears up.... you know the look... pleaseeee? That was enough to urge me to put on the shoes and go... for the next couple of weeks, anyway. I was down to about a mile each time, by then. And, interestingly enough, Bennie wasn't ranging off so far into the brush any longer. He'd still take trips, but he checked on my progress ever more often.

But for Bennie, we wouldn't have made any progress at all in week five, and especially in week six. Bennie actually pushed on me and 'shamed' me into getting on those shoes and getting to the lake. On the Monday of the final week of treatments I was walking about two blocks. I was exhausted. I was still working full time and getting up early to get to the hospital treatment center before work, and it was taking its toll. But, knowing how much Bennie looked forward to our time at the lake I found the strength to get us there. The last week, Bennie didn't leave the path in front of me. He would go ahead a few feet, but then stop and look back at me.

At home, Bennie laid down on my side of the bed, slept on my feet, and if he left the room I was in, he would come back to see if all was well... until he knew I was back to normal. I don't know how he knew, but he did.

I have been cancer-free now for over three years. Bennie and I continued our walks, and when the water got

so low in the lake, we made our way all the way around it. It was on one of those laps that I realized Bennie wasn't acting quite right. I took care of him, just as he had me. But, I'm still here and he isn't.

God, he was a good dog.