Last night we were sitting outside for dinner, it was that one night in a long while where it wasn’t oppressively hot, and it wasn’t windy, and it wasn’t chilly. It was that kind of summer night that sat between all of those things, a momentary place of perfection, and it was that night for just hanging out with the family and talking, from dusk way late into the darkness.
Rhumb was doing her speed laps around the yard, around the barrels, through the raspberries, blasting through the tunnels, spinning on a dime to come back and do it all over again, most likely imagining the canine version of the Olympics and winning every event. She always has a look of total satisfaction for her awesomeness when she is finished.
Story was laying by my chair enjoying the evening on the deck with all of us. He is our dog that prefers to be outside as much as possible no matter what Mother Nature brings. He is a tough and perfect border collie for a lot of reasons.
And then there was $eeker. My daughter went inside for something, and $eeker hopped up in the empty chair, he did his nesting and scratching and tossing of unnecessary pillows so he could curl up into a ball of comfort, with a view of the Canine Olympics happening in the yard.
And at the same time, my husband and I started to tear up, not unhappy tears, but rather immediate tears. The kind that just free flow from the eyes, the kind that cannot be controlled, and they rush down your face, hit the top of your lip and bounce off all over everything. They are the tears that come from a heart space, from an experience, from a memory. And I think we were both taken aback and surprised by the shared energy in that moment.
$eeker will be ten years old in just a few weeks, he has been with us since he was nine weeks old. He has been the best kids dog we have ever had, in the sandbox with the boys, tracking badminton games for hours, collecting wildflowers with the kids on long hikes, he is our Nanny dog, the only one we have ever had like this.
He is a brilliant athlete.
He is the keenest, smartest, most concept solving, reasoning dog we have ever known.
He has always had concerns about other dogs, basically he would like the rest of the canine species removed from planet earth.
He doesn’t want conflict but when put in that position he always makes poor choices, this is over his social skill level.
When work is presented you never have to ask twice, he is 100% dedicated to the task.
He is compulsive with everything in every way.
$eeker is by far the most gorgeous of my dogs to photograph, the camera loves this boy.
But we have never really known him, ever, and last night, maybe for the first time in all of the years we have been family, he let his shield down with just one glance in our direction, and you could feel it.
It was the first time we saw him.
It was the first time we felt him.
And $eeker allowed this to happen for reasons we don’t understand.
While we know each other through living together he has never really wanted to be known, he has never wanted to really connect, and has always been slightly distant that way. Loving, but distant. He is always present but has been the stranger amoungst us at the same time.
Last night he connected, and with his glance he created an unstoppable flow of tears, a messy less than graceful display of splashing tears all over everything.
So now we get to see how this all plays out. Why now?
Why did he choose to connect now, to allow us to see all of him, why drop the fortress thick shield at this point?
I am grateful that he allowed us this glimpse into his perfection, known as him.