DIM LIGHT

It is 3:47. In the morning.
Cooper came and got me up because he had to go out. As much as I love my Bassets, Cooper holds my heart in his unkempt black paws. Even at that hour, usually, he makes me smile. There he is, his one front leg on the bed, peering down into my face with his teeth showing, as if to tear my throat out: but he is smiling. "Good morning;" he says. "I'm sorry but I need to go pee. Don't you?" Yes, but not in the same place, thank you.

And so I roll out of bed and let him out and in and do my own thing and crawl back into bed and he crawls into bed with me. This is our time. And I scratch all his secret spots: the very back of his head and neck, his legpit, all down his chest and the inside of his thighs, the base of his tail, right beneath his ears, and he stretches his full length out, almost as long as the bed, and moans and purrs, and always the teeth, lips pulled back, every white and ghostly tooth gleaming in the dim light. This is MY dog.

No Basset makes me smile the way this dog does. Ok well, maybe sometimes Conley. And I know that since Nigel has become sick, Conley feels displaced, lost and ignored. He who used to sleep at my back at night now is in a crate. My sleep is broken as it is, with Nigel needing to be cleaned, now to be taken out. Conley watches helplessly from his crate, his dark eyes hooded, while I lover-up his
only serious rival: Cooper.

And my heart breaks. I tell Cooper to get down and he does. And I open the crate and Conley falls into my arms. He gets on the bed not with the grace of Cooper but with a thunk that makes the entire bed shake. On his back:"Belly rubs! Get my ears, kiss me, sweet talk me, love me like you used to. Am I still your Best Boy?" Ahh Conley, my love for you is undiminished but by necessity there is less time for it.

He burrows under the blanket. He is hopeful I will let him stay but now Nigel stirs, and begins his relentless whine. He has pooped, or needs to poop, or needs to pee and now requires my full attention.

So the lights go on and I get a coat and a towel, and carrying the cute little lantern John bought in my teeth (God don't let these damn dentures fall out now!) I  open the pen and towel Nigel outside where we spent a frustrating ten minutes peeing and stopping, peeing and stopping. Am I doing this right? I MUST be missing the bladder--oop there he goes nope, stopped again. He doesn't want to stand in one spot. Slowly inch by inch we go forward, me placing his back wobbly legs just so to support the weight and squeezing, grabbing the lantern with one hand so I can see: is he going? Start, stop start stop. And he curls around to look at me--he is done.

Cooper has come out and is watching this curiously, never in the way. He escorts us, towel, lantern and hobbly dog back into the house. Everyone gets a cookie.

Nigel goes into his clean pen and immediately is  asleep. Cooper is by my bed. Conley standing in his crate: he needs out and here comes Llewis: early to bed and late to rise makes a boy healthy and a  slow poke. I let Conley out and he rushes for the door. Llewis briefly acknowledges me as he follows Conley. I sit down now and look at the thermometer. Oh how glad I am I didn't look earlier. Fourteen degrees. Gee, why can't I get rid of this cold?

I am now thinking about bed. Seriously. The boys are back at the door. Everyone gets several biscuits. Llewis repairs to his chair in the living room. Conley returns to his crate, momentarily satisfied that he is still my best boy, Cooper notwithstanding. Cooper takes his treat and knowing what will happen next eats it sloppily on my pillow. Ack. I wash my hands. It is now 4:08. My left arm, which I have done something to the elbow part of (English Major, 1966) is throbbing horribly and so is my left knee.

I take four aspirin with a diet Coke. John is still in bed. He would have gotten up if I had asked, never complaining, stumbling out to help me with Nigel. But why? I can DO it. By the end of the day I need help, but not the beginning. What am I saying! That 4:08 is the beginning of my day??
Yes. Alas. I believe it is.

Cooper has the bed anyway. I smile. I know where everyone is and I know they are fine for now. Day 2 of my diet. But for the dogs, every morning is the start of a whole new life. It may be the same as the day before but it is new. Think like a dog and you'll make it through anything. They are warm, fed and loved desperately. What could be better? How lucky am I to start my day with them.

All my Boys