Inside me, there is a part of me that aches. I don’t think that makes me different than anyone else. The only thing I see different amongst people is how they fill the voids and whether or not they acknowledge that it exists. The ache, hurts, & longings vary from person to person but the bond we all share is that something has touched us and we have to heal. Even the most enlightened have perhaps filled their own tragic past with love and yet they continue to teach there is more to give to the world to bring us healing. So if you heal the wound inside you, basically one opens up for all the people you see fighting their battles.

I spent most of the morning and some of the night cleaning up dog poop. Not only are her legs wearing out and her skin ravaged to the point it bleeds sometimes, now my Chloe has something wrong with her intestines. Oh the number of times I’ve prayed to God to take her in her sleep so she no longer feels any of it. Just one of the myriad of her health issues makes my heart ache. Combined all at once, it breaks me. I look over and see my best friend, child, and arch nemesis all in one. No one can trick me, boss me, or make me feel as loved as this little dog has over the course of almost 13 years now.

I think my ex husband thought if he got me a dog I would shut the hell up about having kids. And he was right, briefly. It bought us some time to stew individually and avoid talking about the fact we wanted different things. So I sunk the first few weeks of having Chloe into spoiling her and loving her like she was a newborn. I was in a brand new place, unpacking boxes in a new house, and didn’t know anyone but Shawn. He had to go on base everyday and he made friends; I bonded with her and was quite content. She was an easy puppy to love.

As we got older our lives changed. I had a job, we lived in the “country” much to my dismay, and both Chloe and I were no longer the social creatures we got to be in base housing. Now add to that some resentment building in our home between me and the ex, and Chloe truly became my main reason for going home each night. It was she who would follow me around (or lead me most often) and snuggle up to me. I was in denial I had big problems. My aches and voids have never been as big as they were in the year or two before the divorce. Now, can we please have a Category 5 hurricane hit so that everythingchanges in life? Ok, thanks God.

I think Shawn hurt Chloe after I left. Because even though it was only a few weeks before I got a house and moved her in with me, neither of us were the same. We both grew not to trust guys so much for the most part. A few key friends play a role during that time and now I consider them family. Fred, Tim, Pops Wiesle, Phil, Chaddy….you know who you are. Notable most of those guys were also well liked by Chloe too. Every guy I just named kept Chloe and I safe on more than one occasion. Oh she would bark and growl and so would I in my own little ways but those guys up there saw right through us both and just silently and gently let us figure out what we needed to know and rebuild our life without Shawn. What a messy time. Good times for sure, but messy and full of hard growth.

And we got older, Chloe and I. 30 hit. Shit got real. We sped up in some ways and slowed down in others. I think that’s when we learned to watch tv again and not always go and do something or be somewhere or make something happen. We had a new house, this one with my name alone on the mortgage (did you know a dog cannot finance a house?! WTF). More men, more ache. And then, they were all kinda gone. Oh, for sure there were relationships but now the last few years we’ve let very few enter our home and none stay long when they did.

Today, there’s a sick dog sleeping next to me. I think she knows more than anyone my holes and the quest I take everyday to not let it be the guiding force. In fact, I think that little dog fills it with so much love there is almost peace now. They say unconditional love is what dogs give. Naw. Naw man, that’s a lie. This little dog expects me to do a million little things and some pretty big ones, like feed, bathe, nurse and talk to her. We can’t play anymore. We can’t enjoy what we used to. So while our conditions do change and they certainly exist, we love each other right on through them. I think she’s taught me that: unconditional love doesn’t mean there aren’t standards of care, it means we hold on to love during any condition. See, for a long time, I had that all messed up in my head. Thanks Jerry McGuire.

And it only gets harder as conditions change. It doesn’t get easier. She’s taught me that as we age SOME stuff gets easier but in other ways it gets much harder. Like watching her age and hurt and decline. People are the same way. And I bet if she could talk, she would also say it’s hard to watch some stuff about me. The way I put myself out there and yet still hide. The way I taunt myself with some hope that love does exist and two people can grow old together (like she and I have). I bet that’s hard to observe. I know I won’t let anyone hurt Chloe but let me tell you, I’d lose a hand if I try to stop her from licking and biting her skin infection right now (tested, proved). She can’t stop me from dreaming no matter how much she tries. But she keeps on loving me.

I know I got real sentimental about my dog just now. Sorry if that bored everyone. I just know the longest relationship aside from family that has ever sustained is drawing near it’s end. And I am learning to let go and yet hold her closer all at the same time. God entrusted us to one another and I think we’ve done alright.