This curmudgeonly old editor has a big, proud grin on his face today.
I am feeling well, and I am proud of my puppy, Trixie.
Wasn't feeling so well at 5am this morning. Have no idea what it was, but something hit me in the gut and I had waves of nausea, had to get up three or four times and head for the porcelain fixture where I proceeded to hurl.
I very seldom get sick. It has to have been something I ate and I can't for the life of me figure out what it was. No matter. After about an hour, it was over.
Evelyn had heard me retching and got out of bed to see what was wrong. As always, she did whatever she could to comfort me . . . and, bless her heart, Trixie came to check out daddy as well. She knew something was wrong and gave me a gentle kiss and then just sat down beside me (at this point I had a pillow on the floor outside the john and was trying to sleep on the floor so I could be close to the rest room if my tummy rebelled again.) Evelyn insisted I get up and go back to bed, she got a large emesis basin (waste paper basket) and put it by the bed . . . and left me alone to try to get back to sleep. Little Trixie curled up right next to daddy and stood guard, ensuring no harm would befall her daddy. We both fell asleep . . . and I slept till 10:45am, which is unheard of for me, an early riser. Thankfully, no further tummy problems ensued.
Surprisingly, I felt great. Refreshed, healthy, raring to go. And Trixe was right there by my side. She approached me tetnatively, wanting to make sure I was okay now. I petted her, loved her, and told her how proud I was of her for knowing daddy was sick and staying by my side.
You won't find many people as loyal as your dog . . . or as understanding.
Dogs just know when you're ill, or when you're hurting.
I remember back when I was about 13 or 14, with another Trixie. I had broken my wrist while playing on the jungle gym at Monroe Junior High in Omaha, Nebraska. It was a bad break and they had to put me under with ether in order to set the wrist bones.
I got home and was sitting on the front porch, feeling like the saddest person in the world. And there was my other Trixie, just sitting on the sidewalk in front of me, looking up at me, with those beautiful brown and expressive eyes. That's when I distinctly remember receiving a message conveyed through those eyes. Trixie was say, "sorry you're hurting . . . but I'm right her for you if you need me. And I always will be."
Dogs just know.
And now, this morning . . . same thing. Trixie knew I wasn't feeling so hot and she made it known that she cared. She was loyal, she was dedicated, and she was nice and cozy as she cuddled in next to me.
I talk to dogs. I told her repeatedly how much I loved her, how much I admired her for standing by me, and how much she comforted me. She looked at me, with those wondrous eyes, and she seemed to know exactly what I was saying.
Dogs just know.
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