We hurried across the street, and Dog seemed to know exactly where to run. She jumped up in the van. She knew that leap of faith also. In seconds flat she was positioned shotgun. I opened the passenger side door, rolled down the window about 3/5 the way, and before shutting the door, began the short process of grinding affection into my dog, letting her know that everything is going to be just fine.
I looked down the sidewalk, and walking towards me was a woman about my age pushing a stroller with a dog inside. Being as emotional as I was, I couldn’t help but engage. As she got closer, I quietly asked if her dog was blind. I guess that’s all I could come up with to say.
“No, he just has very limited functioning in both his back legs. He can still use them. He actually thinks he still has them. I mean they are there, they just don’t work. He loves the stroller. We usually get to a favorite grassy spot about half way through the walk and I let him do whatever it is he wants to do. I just keep him inside here until we get there. It’s his favorite thing in the world to do.”
“Wow, that’s really kind of you, I said.”
“Well I’m a dog person. I take care of them no different than any mother would take care of their own children. I have three other rescues at home. Each one needs special attention, and I give it to each and every one of them.”
I was in and out of a trance. I found a ton of comfort in this conversation I was having with this random woman pushing the dog stroller. I had never seen her before though perhaps I’ve seen her hundreds of times before, just never in this light. She was so kind and humble, and there wasn’t a rough edge to this lady. I noticed she had a wedding ring on which suggested to me that perhaps her husband worked during the day, affording her the luxury of making sure that all her animals never ever had to experience another bad day again.
“Who do have we have here? “she asked, pointing towards Quinn.
Sitting shotgun, eyes closed in her own little trance, ears back, still and quiet as the morning, there sat Quinn.
“That’s Quinn, she is going blind. I am just finding out which is why I am so raw. Look I have to go. It was real nice talking with you.”
I knew I had to leave. I was on the verge of collapse, and she didn’t need to witness it, and I needed to practice not doing it. I needed to practice the art of not making my story a sad story. There wasn’t anything sad about our story.