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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.