I’m reading Tomorrow, a novel by Damien Dibben (2018) with multiple settings spanning 200 years and many locations; it focuses on Venice in 1815 as a 200-year-old dog searches for his master. That’s 200 in human years, a fantastical element of the book. The fact the dog is the narrator is another fantastical element. I’m enjoying it as I read the tale from Tomorrow’s point of view. It inspired me to let Java, our chocolate lab, write this week’s column. She begins….
If you’ve read Anna’s columns, you’ve encountered me, Java. I’ve been with Mom and Dad since she picked me up 9.5 weeks after my April 14, 2014, birthdate. She arranged for pick-up on June 20, her daughter Danielle’s birthday. I never knew Danielle: she died before I became a part of the family. When we lived in Ossian, I enjoyed walks on a paved path behind the elementary school and spent some extra time at her memorial tree and plaque. We had a picnic there once. I love any occasion where eating is involved.
I recently celebrated my tenth birthday. Ten is pretty old for a chocolate lab, but some days I feel like a young pup, especially when I’m around Norman or Oakley or my friends at Rudy’s Dog Park. At 10 my eyes are clear, my teeth sparkle, and I hear well unless Mom’s calling me to come inside when I’m on the trail of a trespassing critter. I am allergic to grass, so by mid-spring I’m taking Apoquel. I have arthritis and take medicine for that. Those of you humans of a certain age probably experience similar issues.
Labs have been called lazy, loving, licking, and lumpy. I have my share of lumps, two of which were removed from my rear right leg just above my ankle. As those fatty cysts got bigger, Mom worried they’d impede my walking and romping. Dr. Carla Carlton at Lake City Animal Health and Wellness Center agreed and removed them. The worst thing about it all was having to wear the “cone of shame” again. You humans have no idea what wearing that cone is like! I had worn it before when my doctor at Honegger Animal Clinic performed surgery to untwist my twisted colon.
On January 18, I had surgery to repair a torn ACL. We drove to the Center for Animal Health, Edwardsburg, Michigan. Dr. Visser did that operation. After I’d healed, we returned for 5 sessions of physical therapy with Dr. Reed. I love car rides, so the 55-minute drive didn’t bother me. Mom and Dad did some of the same PT exercises at home. I did not like it. But I didn’t have to wear the dreaded “cone of shame.” The hair on my left rear hip is growing back, so it’s not quite so obvious I had repair work done. And I’m limping a lot less. Cabprofen eases the arthritis pain. I may eventually need monthly shots of Librela; laser therapy is even a possibility. Dr. Katie Van Dyke explained it all to mom. My parents take really good care of me, as do my doctors.
I think I’ve taken pretty good care of Mom and Dad, too. In 2016 when Mom had a nasty bout of pancreatitis, I actually got to visit her twice during her nine-day stay at Adams Memorial. I was only 2 but already a “good girl.” She tells me I’m excellent at lifting her spirits. When she experienced breast cancer surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation in 2021, I slept by her side of the bed when she slept. I sat at her feet when she sat. In 2022 when she broke her hip while she and Dad were walking me on our icy street, I stayed beside her as she healed after surgery.
I take care of Dad, too. He claims I prevented him from having a heart attack. He told me when he returned from a week in the hospital in December that he had severely clogged coronary arteries. Because we walked three times a day since I was just a wee pup, I helped his heart develop new pathways. Mom thought I was going to wag my butt off when I greeted him in the garage the day he returned from quadruple bypass surgery.
Enough talk of injuries and maladies. I couldn’t end my opportunity to write Mom’s column without sharing the things I love—besides Mom and Dad. I love sticks, the bigger the better. I love swimming. And there’s nothing like a pontoon ride. I love taking walks on our street, on the Beyer Farm Trail but especially in campgrounds. There are so many intriguing smells in campgrounds—and sticks. And kids, lots of kids. Did I tell you I love kids? They are generous with hugs and pats on the head. And they love my soft ears.
We camped most recently at Jefferson Ridge in Dirks, Arkansas, to view the eclipse. Dad is nuts about all things astronomical. He set up two telescopes that afternoon. One had a camera attached to it and the camera was connected to his computer. I heard him tell a campground neighbor that he was taking pictures once every minute. I watched from the camper so I didn’t disturb the telescopes or the step ladder holding the computer. It got dark and then it wasn’t. And the birds stopped chatting. It was spooky.
Here’s the Thing: I’ll conclude for Java. She is very much a part of our lives and family. Beloved canines spend such a short time on earth. During their brief lives, they teach us lots of lessons: how to take care of those we love, how to play and enjoy simple things, how to rest when tired, and how to love unconditionally. This world would be a much better place if people were more like good dogs.
Let’s talk.
annaspalding1956@gmail.com
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Editor’s Note: This is one of a series of articles and opinions written by a group of retired and current teachers — LaNae Abnet, Ken Ballinger, Billy Kreigh, Kathy Schwartz, and Anna Spalding. Their intent is to spur discussions at the dinner table and elsewhere. You may also voice your thoughts and reactions via The News-Banner’s letters to editor.
