The best boy
You guys, we survived January! Only to be welcomed into a February that is gifting us with an extra day. Not cool February, not cool. Between the lack of vitamin D and cold temperatures, I’ve found myself increasingly leaning into couch cuddles under blankets layered with dogs. Even Tabasco and Sriracha seem a little lazier this time of year.
That may not be entirely true. The Bernese in Sriracha loves the cold, but she loves attention more, and if her people are staying still then she will stay still right along with them. Tabasco, on the other hand, well Tabasco just turned 15 last week. Yes, you read that right, 15.
While he mostly looks, and sometimes acts, like his scrappy self, his increasing age is undeniable (and trust me I’ve tried to deny it): clouded cataracts, difficulty jumping up on the couch, a slow progression up and down stairs. He is also probably going to need to start wearing diapers soon as his accidents are now a regular occurrence. Although, I’m not sure you can call it an accident when he pees inside the house immediately after coming back in from outside. Did he forget to pee when he was outside? Does he no longer know the difference between in and out? Or is just old and doesn’t give AF. Look, it’s not a great situation, but he is otherwise healthy, and I sort of owe it to him.
We picked up Tabasco from a grandma in New Jersey, three months before Miguel and I got married. She had two puppies left, that we got to choose from. They were freaking adorable, but Tabasco did a backward walk, sort of like a furry Michael Jackson before peeing on the floor. I was sold. It actually made house training easier because we always knew when he was about to pee. If only he would start moonwalking again…
Those first few years, Tabasco followed Miguel everywhere, he wanted nothing to do with me. I was about ready to get another dog (love me!) when we got pregnant. When we brought Jackson home from the hospital the funniest thing happened: Tabasco’s allegiances shifted. Did he sense competition? Smell my milk? Have a newfound respect for me for birthing a bowling ball? Whatever the reason, he has been my dutiful shadow ever since.
During Adelaide’s life, Tabasco was never far from her, not because he was particularly fond of her – that is just where he knew could find me. If I wasn’t moving, Tabasco and I were in contact: sitting on my feet, next to my butt, snuggled at my side. I was so focused on Adelaide; I didn’t have much extra time to devote to Tabasco. Miguel was the one who would take him on walks, throw the ball for him, and make sure he had food and water. Yet, still, I was the one he was dedicated to.
And thank goodness because after Adelaide died, Tabasco was one of my few consistent sources of comfort. His curly coat absorbed gallons of my tears. His 15lb frame held the weight of my head when I would collapse into him. No matter where I crumbled, if I was at home, he was there to comfort me. Maybe he was just grateful that it was finally his turn for all the love and attention. Or maybe he understood something more…
Last year my mom sent me a book called, “We Walk Beside You: Animal Messages for an Awakening World” by Sandra Mendelson. It’s a memoir of sorts about Mendelson’s journey through the revelation that she can communicate with animals through telepathic experiences of sorts. I started the book with a heavy amount of skepticism and closed it a full-fledged believer. Months later it all feels a little woo-woo again, but one aspect of the book has continued to stick with me.
Mendelson recants what she learned from various animals including horses, dogs, and squirrels about the ways of the world. The revelation that has a hold on me is how certain animals can absorb another animal or person’s bad energy, stress, and sadness, through physical contact and in doing so provide them with relief. I thought of Tabasco always making sure that we were touching and the comfort I found in knowing I was never alone both during Adelaide’s life and beyond. Could he have been absorbing my energy this entire time?
As I watch him slowly scale the stairs in his elderly dog body I wonder where all that bad energy has gone, and if he is still carrying it with him to this day.
Look, I know this sounds bananas, but there is something about it that makes sense to me. While Tabasco still wants to be in the same room with me, he no longer requires the same physical connection. Could that be because I am healthier and happier now than I have been in years? Is his work done and now he can rest?
Who knows. What I do know is that Tabasco provided emotional support that I will never be able to repay, and even if he is confusing a rug for a pee pad, (or just doesn’t care) I owe it to him to love him for the rest of his days, however many he has left. Thankfully, there are no major health concerns yet, but I know it’s only a matter of time, he is 15 after all. He’s a good boy, the best boy, and I am forever grateful that he has been by my side for all these years.
ID: Adelaide is propped up on Kelly’s lap, and Jackson is next to them kissing Adelaide’s cheek. They are sitting on a blue couch and a white fluffy dog, Tabasco, is sandwiched between Kelly’s other side and the arm of the couch.
