Tag: dogs

unedited

On July 4, 2023 I traveled north and slightly west. Through mountains and valleys I went. As I drove, I noticed the gentle blue Cornflowers, elegant Queen Anne’s Lace and some jaunty yellow flowers that I cannot name. Behind me, our dog sat on the floor of my husband’s truck. Every once in awhile, I would glance over my right shoulder to see how Murphy, my trusty companion, was getting along. The day was hard on him (and me somewhat) as I had to lift him in and out of the vehicle.

I hadn’t traveled any great distance with Murphy since the summer of 2019; that year he was able to jump in and out of my mini van with very little effort. In mid June of this year he turned 14, but his brain told him he was younger. Every time we were at a rest stop on our way to Muskoka, instead of waiting to let me help him in and out of the truck, he tried to jump and do it himself; this made it difficult for both of us. Neither of us thought we would be taking this trip together; my husband was supposed to drive up to our summer home with him ten days after I arrived. At the very last minute, with my car packed, my daughter and I ready to go, I was asked to stay home for a few days. My husband took my vehicle, with all my things, and headed north. Murphy and I were left behind. When I departed 4 days later, our beloved mutt came with me.

For the most part, Murphy slept the whole way to our cottage, except when we stopped for bathroom and water breaks. On the last mile of our journey, as we turned onto the road that leads to our cottage, he sat up. Murphy knew exactly where we were, even after almost four years.

When we arrived in the late evening on July 4th, 2023, the sun was still high in the sky. After unloading and having a bite to eat, I took Murphy on a short walk toward the beach. I thought it would be good for both of us to stretch our legs after the long journey. To get to the beach, there are fairly steep stairs on both sides of a hill.

As we walked, with the moss like a cushion under our feet, I intended to turn back before we reached the steps. However, Murphy (on his long leash), had other ideas and started toward the stairs. Before I knew it, he tried to climb the first step and fell. Again, I thought my companion remembered the boundless energy he used to have: when he would go up and over the hill to the beach. In the little sandy bay our dog would play fetch with a tennis ball, then burry it in the sand. Sometimes he would chase the ducks or join my husband in a kayak.

We have had Murphy since he was a puppy. He was adopted at the end of the summer of 2009. For nine years he joined us on our trips to Canada. For several of those summers, Murphy and I would walk two miles together almost every morning.

However, life and our routine changed: in the summer of 2020 none of our family was able to set foot in Canada due to COVID. Then in the summers of 2021 and 2022, my husband chose not to join us at the cottage and Murphy stayed at home with him. Over a year ago, when I was in Muskoka, my trusty companion started walking slower; at the age of 13 he had entered his twilight years. Perhaps he had passed into his dotage before this, but I hadn’t noticed.

This past July, my husband departed our cottage about a week after I arrived. Murphy was left with my 17 year old and I until my spouse came back at the end of the month. This unexpected time with Murphy was special and important for both my daughter and me. Walks with our dog were shortened to several small strolls every day. We had to practice patience and remember he wasn’t young anymore. Our mutt’s steps were slow and painful, but he kept moving. In Murphy, I saw a reflection of what I might feel like in 25 years: slower movement, achy joints, and the desire to do something that physically I would no longer be able to do…

With the regular short walks every day, Murphy and I finally went on a successful walk to and from the beach. We didn’t stay long, but he played for a few minutes before we trekked back up and over the hill. Just over a week later, my husband took him home.

Murphy’s story doesn’t end here, but it raises the question: how do we know when it is time?

As summer turned to fall, my husband and I traveled up to the cottage to experience autumn in Muskoka for the first time. Murphy came with us. He has become too much responsibility for a busy high school senior to take care of; if something happened to our precious canine while we were away, it wouldn’t be fair to burden our daughter with this…. Although this was our first time seeing the changing of the leaves in Ontario, Murphy has probably experienced his last moments there.

We have been home from our short trip north for about three weeks now. The leaves on the trees are showing the bright yellows, deep reds and the brilliant burnt oranges of Autumn. As the leaves start to fall, I see Murphy stumbling often on our daily strolls, choosing the smooth side of the curb to walk on, rather than the grass. Each step Murphy takes looks excruciating. Every day, for the last week, I’ve asked myself: “When the trees are bare, will our old dog still be with us or will his rest come with the quiet of winter?”. Only time will tell.