When my dog Billy went for a routine teeth clean at the vet clinic recently, the veterinarian found a suspicious lump in his jaw. The lump was tested, and it was the worst news. My beloved fur baby has cancer. It is apparently inoperable, and whilst there are currently no symptoms that we can see, the cancer will undoubtedly spread.
Billy’s diagnosis was a few weeks ago now, and so far, he seems as happy and healthy as always. But we have changed, in response to the news that Billy is unlikely to be with us for too much longer.
We have become a lot more forgiving of Billy’s annoying little foibles like jumping up at visitors and dispatching every cushion on the sofa onto the floor. We find ourselves going on dog walks whenever Billy looks longingly at his lead, whether we feel like it or not, and he enjoys roast chicken (his favourite food) for his dinner each night.
When I come home from work, I greet Billy, not in the distracted way that I often used to, at the same time as reading the mail or putting shopping away. These days, I drop to his level, look him in the eyes and tell him what a good boy he is.
It is so bittersweet watching Billy enjoy his best life, in the certain knowledge that he does not have many happy days left. Although it is so sad knowing just how precious the time we have left is, it is, in its way a blessing that we have this knowledge.
When Billy does eventually cross the rainbow bridge, there will be comfort in the knowledge that the time we had together was quality time and that Billy knew, in his own doggy way, just how well he was loved.
I have been pondering on the life lesson that this situation has presented me. How much have I taken for granted the precious people in my life? How often have I given them half-hearted attention instead of fully connecting and truly being in the moment with them? How many opportunities have I overlooked to let those closest to my heart know that I love them by my words and actions?
How much regret would I feel if one of my nearest and dearest were taken from me suddenly, for what I hadn’t said or done?
Heavy questions and ones that have spurred me to take stock of how I engage with the world. I am consciously applying the lessons I have learnt over the last few weeks by being more present, seeking to make each connection with those I care for a positive experience for them and to keep the expression of love front and centre in my approach.
It costs nothing to take the time to tell my special people that I love them. To hug with abandon. To take the time to find out how my friends and colleagues really are, and to really listen when they respond.
None of us quite know what is around the corner, and we should never risk missing the opportunity to be loving, kind and grateful for the wealth we have in our relationships.
Quietly Quaintrelle 