Do Not Go Gentle…

I recently bumped into a colleague I hadn’t seen in a while and the first thing I noticed was the sprinkling of grey through the hair at his temples.  At least with men a little snow adds a touch of sophistication.  Most women I know freak out when the first grey hairs appear, myself included. 

It got me to thinking about our police dogs and how one of our years equals seven of theirs.  By using human-to-dog-age-calculations PD Hondo and I are the same age, at least until March when my four legged partner jumps cleanly into the middle-age category.

If you call lifting Hondo out of the back of my pick up truck and placing him gently on the ground ‘babying’, then my husband notices that I baby the 80+ lb German Shepherd to no end.  I’ve stopped running with Hondo, instead opting for sessions of speed walking (which look ridiculous – I can tell by the lay of Hondo’s ears he doesn’t want to be seen with me as I sashay my way down the street) or fetching his toy from the water at a nearby beach to ease the stress on his joints while maintaining his cardio. His diet includes supplements to keep him fit and limber, and I would forgo any anti-aging regime for myself if I could find a fountain of youth for my dog.

When taking his photo I try to ensure Hondo’s tongue is hanging out in a doggy smile because then you don’t notice the grey in his once jet-black muzzle.  His clear brown eyes and youthful exhuberance are a reassurance, but I know the day is quick approaching when he will stall, just a tiny bit, when trying to stand up from his bed in front of the fireplace.  My eyes watch for this, even as I chide myself for being a pessimistic realist.

Some of you have asked how Hondo is doing, and I’m here to tell you he is doing very well.  He is still young(ish), his drive for work is ever increasing and our bond is one that simply terrifies me.  How is that such creatures, who give willingly of themselves even when it means giving their lives for ours if the call of duty requires it, are only with us for such a short time?

My father always said I was forever in a rush to get to my ‘destination’.  He constantly reminded me to slow down and enjoy the journey for fear I would one day look back and realize I had missed it all.  

Well dad, I’m enjoying the journey.  To slow the speed of my time with Hondo is an impossible feat. Instead, I try to imprint every nuance of it so the memories may carry me through when this journey is done.

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7 Responses to "Do Not Go Gentle…"

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