Here is is, the wee hours of the morning and my girl Jasmine wakens me to take a quick potty break. Standing on the porch , I soak in the gentle night air, I watch the stars as she wanders about, doing her thing. I cherish these early moments. Life seems simple and unthreatening. Her tumor is not a glaring reality in the near dark and things are calm, routine as they have been for over a decade shared with my girl.
Upon our return to the bedroom we are greeted by Kota and Mtzee, the chosen ones who slept with us last night. My hubby and I agreed to limit the pack in our room at night for a bit, rotating them to give everyone attention but to avoid overwhelming Jasmine. They nuzzle Jazz and bump me then resettle themselves in thier spots. Jasmine jumps back on to our bed as I watch to assure her success. That bed seems much higher than it used to some days. She curls up next to her Dad, as much as she adores me and there is zero question of that, I smile when I see her cuddle close to him. My restless legs won't allow her to reach a deep sleep and her Dad would cut his off before knowingly disturbing her. She quickly returns to sleep, gently snoring, I lay here with my lap top and think how lucky I am to have her one more day. She is like my other half. When hubby travels for work, Jasmine is still next to me. When we had a seperation, I cuddled to her. You know how older folk, when they lose thier spouse of many years, have trouble sleeping because the room is too quiet? It is Jazz' s breathing I tune into, it is her snores that lull me to my own slumber.
I try not to think 3-6 months, instead I think wow we have another hour to snooze then a busy day ahead.
Cruising this site I replied to a sweet person who had emailed me , and on her page she had a snap of her pup with fall decor on the porch. I guess this is supposed to be our last fall together, so in a few hours when the chaos of the house again reigns, I will make time to get some new snaps of my Mina and I , the porch and pumpkins... poets wax on about the bittersweetness of the Fall, my heart understands better now what they tried to share. An old Don McClain song keeps playing in my head, ever heard Vincent?
"Now I understand, what you tried to say to me..." it seems somehow Jasmine's snores keep the rythym of the song as she has kept the rythym of our years.