A Beginning and an End -- Part I

A friend recently said to me, “Everything has a beginning and an end.” It sounds trite. But, it’s true just like how the sun rises and then sets.

This past week involved three ends that all had beautiful beginnings. First, I was told that my dog, Monty, had lymphoma and didn’t have long to live. Second, my Dad’s house would soon be gone, maybe earlier if the things inside were cleaned out sooner than anticipated. Finally, my friend’s mother lost her battle with cancer.

Part I -- Monty

I bought Monty two weeks before my Dad died. I was never a “dog” person, but for some reason, as my Dad grew more ill, I became more of a dog person desiring unconditional love (let’s face it, cats can love you or leave you), barking, and regular walks. After I saw “The Accidental Tourist,” I knew if I were to ever get a dog, it would be a Corgi.

One day at work shortly before my father died, I googled “Corgis.” I came to a website, I saw the cute dogs, and they conquered my heart, even though the website said, “This breed sheds a lot.” This was ironic given that I had previously dated a guy with a yellow lab that was always shedding; I could never wear black there, and if I did, I cursed the poor dog for two days afterwards.

A week later, I was at the mall. I was just about to leave when a voice in my head, which sounded a lot like Queen Elizabeth's, asked, “Are there any Corgis at Debby’s Petland?” I answered, “I doubt it.”

Queen Elizabeth said, “I really think you should take a look.” I said, “No. I doubt it.” She said, “Even if you doubt it, I command you to go there anyway.” Hey, she was the Queen after all.

I entered Debby’s Petland thinking “There’s no way there’s going to be a Corgi here.” As I scanned the cages, I said, “Queen Liz, you were like so wrong, girlfriend.” When a flash of white and sable met my eyes, I gasped; it was a Pembroke Welsh Corgi!

An employee saw me gawking at the dog and asked, “Would you like to meet the dog?” I said to myself, “No, no, no!” Just then Queen Elizabeth said, “Come on then. Just meet the little bugger for a few minutes,” and I said, “Okay, just for a minute.”

I was instructed to a little play area. I waited, and in about two minutes, the little sable and red creature came running out to greet me as if he had known me all his life. Queen Elizabeth said, “Ask if he’s a male?”

Damn her. She knew that in my fantasy dog house that my corgi was a boy and his name was Montgomery after General Montgomery. Obeying my Queen, I asked the employee who brought him in, “Is he male?”

The employee looked at the puppy’s card and said, “Yes.” Meanwhile, the little sable and white puppy, who was six months old, jumped up on my leg and wagged his bottom at me. I sighed, and the employee said, “You can put a $25 deposit down, and it will hold him for 48 hours.”

The puppy was now smiling at me. Queen Elizabeth said, “Your Dad needs you now, and you’re there for him. This puppy needs you now, and, look, you’re here!” I said to the employee and to Queen Elizabeth, “I will leave a deposit.”

I had no idea what I was going to do. I knew I was losing my father. And, then I knew, I loved this little dog.

Monty smiled again. It was so hard to say good-bye to him. I said, “I will see you again soon!”

Two days later, I went back with John to fetch him. When I went to pay ($750), John whipped out his American Express card and paid for Montgomery. We led him out of the mall, drove him home, and within five minutes of being home, untrained, he pooped on Nathan’s bedroom floor!

When I went to visit my Dad the day after I picked up Monty, I said to my Dad, “I got a dog!” My Dad laughed, smiled, and in his smile, I saw so much more. It was as if he knew exactly what Queen Elizabeth knew; he would always be with me no matter where my love for him manifested itself. ♥