A Few Words on Love.
I hear folks talk about demons. Not
those pesky things with wings and horns that are as far removed from reality as
the people who believe in them. No, I'm talking psychologically. Having demons
is something I think everyone lives with in one form or another. They aren't anything
more than the result of living with (or against) social norms, but they end up
taking root in your soul and very often never leave.
So what brings up such a curious
subject?
Oh, I have demons. They are mostly
small things, easily ignorable on a daily basis. But for a wolfhound like me,
there is one which still raises its pretty head now and again.
It's one I do my best to avoid. And
yet, from time to time I have a chance encounter with it and it still causes my
heart to skip a few beats.
Or rather, I should say her. My
problem, that is, my demon is a demoness. And if there ever was a finer looking
causation for the downfall of a noble male, it is she.
I used to work with a pack of
females. It was no big deal. I was already mated to a fine specimen of the red
haired setter variety, so all was good. And yet.
When she came into the group, I
felt that strange tingle in places that are affected by those urges meant for
mating and mating alone. But being superior to my baser urges, I kept my
distance and limited myself to polite conversation.
For months.
For years.
She was mated after all, to another
male. So watched her get older and lovelier. I watched her go through three
pregnancies.
There has never been a bitch so
beautiful while carrying a pup. Sorry girls, but pregnancy can be rough on a
female form, however she carried it off flawlessly. I'll not denigrate matters
with undo ungentlemanly words, but I would have gladly done her right up to the
day she delivered.
That is true beauty.
But she was not mine and I was not
hers.
So we became friends. Very good
friends.
We talked about everything, but rarely
did the conversation stray to the situation that existed between us. We
discussed marriage, children, love...
I quit that job years ago now. I
went for a very long time without seeing her. Oh, I kept track of what was
going on in her life, for what else could I do? I found out she got a divorce.
The house I helped her buy (research only, no money) was up for sale after
that. It was too bad really.
But life moves on regardless of our
desires, and yet while she moved on, I stayed the same.
I thought I was going to move on,
but as I was anchored to the one thing that seemingly controlled that, I
remained were I was. A fixture, so to speak.
An old dog who put forth great
effort into assisting she whom I am with to allow her to achieve a status that
might otherwise have been outside of her reach. I do not say this begrudgingly,
for one of the greatest gifts a canine has is to lend assistance to others when
assistance is needed. My own father was a recipient of such care, and his own
physician said that I likely extended his life another year and a half beyond
what he might otherwise had available to him.
But love is a tricky thing. Having
been monogamous my entire life, one has a right, after the passing of so many
decades, to wonder at what love really is.
I know what you youngsters think it
is, for I was once young too. So don't go there with your idealistic banter.
You'll be barking up the wrong tree.
I think that love can fade. I don't
mean that about-face that happens when people get tired of each other. I mean fade. There is no hate, there is no
anger. There just ends up...
Nothing.
I still put forth a mighty effort.
I'm back to working after an early retirement. I don't mind. It's funny though
how I bring home more money than the missus does in her fancy job. I come home
with bruises and scrapes, but if I mention them I'm complaining. Unlike her
every morning (that I'm off that is) when she relates of being tired, how she
doesn't want to go into work, how they don't pay her enough, how her neck hurts
from sitting in one position grading, etc.
Life can suck. So do something
about it.
I wanted to lose weight, and while
it didn't happen the way I had foreseen it, I still made it happen. Nothing is
more pathetic than an old, overweight dog. And with that, I am speaking for
myself only.
My mate wanted to lose weight too.
But it was "too hard". Anything worthwhile generally is. It is in completing
the task that you find satisfaction for your effort.
I will never claim to be perfect.
But I am no fool. I can see things, in myself and in others that they
themselves refuse to see.
So for me, I guess love has faded
to dedication. I still come home every day. I still assist her with her work
for I think she grew a little too comfortable having my assistance for the past
few years. We still do lunch together, and from time to time crossword puzzles
and the like.
But I find myself restive.
This is not what I bargained for.
And yet, what else can a gentleman do?
So.
I was at the store. Yes, amongst
everything else I do the shopping. Can you believe there is a female who
doesn't like to shop? But then I am the cook in the family so I know what needs
to be stocked. But I digress.
There, outside under the overhang,
was her. She is the epitome of the Afghan hound; long lovely hair, slim figure,
beautiful face, shapely bottom and chest. She was talking with someone and I
was glad of it. Having not seen her in ages, meeting up with her now was not
something that I was looking forward to.
I did my best to avoid her seeing
me, without making an obvious fool of myself. I made it inside and went
immediately to my list of necessities. I
figured I was in the clear since she was closest to the exit door when I spotted
her. I was under the impression she had already done her shopping and was
leaving.
No such luck. When I heard her
voice call my name I felt a lump form in my throat. That's the sort of stupid
thing that happens when you're young. A rough and ready old thing like me is
supposed to be well past such nonsense.
And yet here I was.
I looked up and smiled.
"Hello Cari."
"How are you doing?" she asked,
with a bright look on her face.
"I'm doing," I said noncommittally.
"And you?"
"Busy. Still working at the same
old place. It's kind of boring without having you around."
"Yeah, there are things that I
miss. How's the family?"
She proceeded to update me on her
kids, and I did the same on mine. All the while this old ticker of mine was
running a few beats faster than it normally did.
The conversation lulled for a
moment and I said something I meant, but I shouldn't have said.
"You're looking good."
"You too. But then, you always did
look good."
Let me tell you young pups
something. It wasn't the words she used; it was the tone. A pooch can speak a
lie as easily as the truth, but how you say your words gives your intent more meaning.
We both said what was on our mind. Previously,
I referred to her as a demoness, but the fact of the matter is she is something
quite the opposite. She is the closest thing to a living angel I have ever
encountered. I suppose I might have tried harder to win her over if I felt that
I deserved someone as fine as she.
Oh, don't judge me. I know better
than to think that you can only love just one person. There are different
levels of emotion and sometimes one eclipses the other. But when one makes a
choice in life, there is something to be said for sticking with it.
I'm not miserable. And I don't know
that I would ever be happier if I moved on. So here I am, grousing about things
that are and those that might have been. But the fact remains, unlike so many
of my friends out in the world, I find I'm a dog of my word; at least as best
as I have been able to keep it. Being married to the same shaggy haired female
for thirty years is quite the accomplishment. And it hasn't been easy, and yes,
I suppose that goes for both sides of the relationship. I have few delusions
about who and what I am.
So what am I going to do now?
Nothing. I deleted her phone number
a long time ago. I could find her new house if I was truly interested, but I
have no desire at this point to disrupt anyone's life. It just wouldn't be worth
it, even with the possibility of such a prize awaiting me when it was all said and done.
So for all you pups who whine and
yelp about how unfair life is, the fact is, it is. You make choices and you live
with them. The real trick is making the proper ones. Those are the ones you can
ultimately live with. Life will often throw you a curve ball. Sometimes you simply
don't bother to swing the bat.