Some of you have heard this story but it is worth telling again.
Last week the dogs were scheduled to be spayed. As much as I think it would be sweet to have a house full of puppies and let Noah see the miracles mother nature has to offer I also knew it would be horribly irresponsible to let it happen. They should have had the surgery a long time ago but I haven't been able to make it happen.
I have actually given full responsibility of the dogs to Steve, Noah and Aly. This seems to be the one place I can delegate easily. I use to be such a dog-lover. I was raised with dogs, slept with them, slept with their fleas and took a dog with me where ever I went. When I had kids it changed and all that maternal energy went to them. After Stevie left her body I had a hard time giving any of myself, I was pretty empty and the thought of loving anyone or anything hurt.
I am now back to being the mommy because Noah makes it easy. Aly doesn't want a mom. Steve wants me to give to him what I gave to Stevie but he doesn't understand that what I gave to her she took with her when she left.
So there sit these horribly cute dogs and I feel nothing but pity for them because I know they need to be cuddled and loved and I just don't have it to give.
Steve is not much of a multi-tasker at home. He decided out of the blue that he would make the spaying arrangements. I wanted to step in for about a second then just let it go.
He had arranged for the surgery a month ahead of time but had obligations the morning of the surgery and sorta expected me to fix it, to step in and take over and I didn't. He made the plan and he would have to cancel or make it happen. This is not how we do things historically. What usually happens is I take over and bitch and complain the whole time.
This time Steve was stuck with two very skittish dogs on leashes connected to harnesses he put on them upside down. He got them in the car and tied one dogs leash to the front seat and the other in the back. If it were me I would have put the crates in the car, put them in the crates and taken them safely to the vet. Then I would have put something warm and soft in the crates for them so the trip home would be comfortable. He is not me and I let him do his thing.
About 20 minutes later Steve calls Aly's cell, not mine, hers. All I can hear is her saying "No Dad, no, she never does that she is always good in the car" then tears then running around the house frantically. I am trying to get her to tell me what is going on but she is hysterical and I can't understand her.
I call Steve and he tells me that when he got to the vet he untied Bicha and went around the other side of the car to get Cricket out but she wasn't there all that was there was a leash and empty collar hanging out of the window. He swears he has no idea how or when it happened.
I tell him that there is no way she is alive, and Noah walks in just as I say it, now he is hysterical.
Steve stays at the vet and admits Bicha, Aly calls work and gets in her truck to go look for Cricket. I grab a blanket thinking I will have to scrape a dead dog off the side of the road and wrap her in it. Noah and I get into the car and go looking for her. I tell Noah that the odds that we will find her alive don't look good but I need him to try and communicate with her. I tell him dogs can hear kids and he needs to tell her to stay were she is, not to be afraid that we are coming. He takes this task very seriously and begins chanting which is irritating but better than crying.
I follow Steve's path. It is morning and there are a lot of cars on the road. I check my speed and I am going about 40mph. and thinking how the hell could a dog survive hanging from a car window until she falls out of her leash, drop onto the road at this speed then miss being hit by a car if she survives the fall. I was praying Noah would not see her, my plan was to pull over gently at least a hundred feet from her and wrap her in the blanket.
Twenty minutes go by and still no dog.
Aly calls my cell and yells "Mom some guy said he thinks there was a white dog running toward the bart station and I think I could see Cricket running really fast through the field there" I tell her I am on my way and I make a U-turn and head to the bart station. Part of me is excited and another part of me thinks Aly is just seeing what she wants to and it was most likely a bird or a rabbit.
Noah and I drive around and around the station, the parking lot, and the fields, nothing. We meet up with Aly for a minute and keep looking. I hit a dead end literally and think to myself we need to just go home. I turn to Noah who is still chanting for Cricket to stay put and not be afraid, and tell him we have to go home. I tell him that if she is alive someone will find her and bring her to the animal shelter and they will call us.
As I round turn the car around and head out I see a fence leading from the field to bart and a small white dog sitting patiently waiting.
Noah jumps out and picks her up, and brings her into the car. I check her out top to bottom looking in her ears for blood and fluid, her ribs for tender spots, her limbs for broken bones, her eyes and her abdomen. Aside from a scrape under her doggy-lip she is untouched by any harm, perfect, fine and worn out. She curls up on the blanket I brought and enjoys the ride home.
If she can survive, I can survive. It is shitty she went through all of that to teach me something when I can' even manage to give her a few tender moments a day.
I still delegate the dog stuff because I know it is best for the dogs and for me, for right now but I have a new tenderness I didn't have before, a respect for all beings and how we share this planet with them. Cricket is not here by accident.