Thorin is
still taking medicine. I open the
antibiotic capsule, dump half of it onto a slice of deli meat, wrap it up, and
feed it to him. It’s not the same
without Sam wagging his tail, waiting for his treat, and I feel a pang on my
heart.
We all sit
on the couch in the living room as Thorin races through the house. Lexi sobs, “It’s not complete. It’s wrong to just say Thorin cuz it’s Sam
and Thorin. It just doesn’t make sense. He just brings a lot more light to this place,
Mom. We’ve gotta get him back. He’s ours.
We’ve gotta get him back. How can
this be the right thing for us when it’s putting us through this and we’re
losing part of our family? It feels
empty already. It feels empty. Having Sam here was the closest thing to
having a father here because he’s a protector.”
“What’d
you say?” I’m startled by her
connection.
“Sam is a
protector, like a dad.”
“Sam’s
the best thing I have from my childhood,” Laina cries. “They’re all I have left.”
Lexi
continues, “Thorin’s running back and forth ‘cuz he’s anxious. It’s literally like losing part of our family
again. Having pets was one of the only
secure things we had. With you and dad
fighting and getting divorced, the only secure thing we had was our pets. Sam makes me feel safe.”
“It’s true; he does make you feel safe. You know, when Sam’s there, you just feel
safe,” Laina adds.
“Whenever I’d lie down next to him, and he would put his
paw on me I just felt safe in that moment.
It radiates from him.”
“When I was lying there petting him, he was comforting me.”
Lexi sobs, “So what does that mean, what does it mean? Is nothing in life ever secure? Is there nothing in my life that’s
secure? Is there nothing that can be
secure besides God? Why? This doesn’t make sense. I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe at all,” Laina cries. “He makes you feel warm and loved even though
he can’t say a damn thing. He can’t say
anything to us, but you know that he wants to be with you and love you. It’s
cold without him. There’s not as much
life in here anymore.”
Lexi yells at me. “Talk to us.”
“I’m listening. I’m
letting you get it all out.”
“I don’t know,” she says. “It’ll just take the next few
days to process this.”
“Not days,” says Laina.
“I’m never getting over it.”
“I’m really sorry you’re hurting so much. This is hard and it sucks and it’s not
fair. It’s okay to be sad and angry and
hurt and heartbroken but know that Sam will
be okay, and we’ll be okay.” I
stand. “Come on, girls, let’s pray.” The three of us lie on the bed, the cats
around us, Thorin at our feet. “God, I
confess that we’ve been angry and we’ve been hurt and we’ve been sad. We’ve been stressed and overwhelmed and I’ve
been tense. We’ve been impatient and
I’ve even been in despair. But, we’ve
also been blessed and we’ve learned so much and we’ve been so happy and we’ve
had so much fun. We’ve loved and we’ve
been so grateful for this time with the dogs.
No matter what happens, thank you for that. Please help us with whatever’s supposed to
happen. If it’s the best thing for Sam
to go to this family, then please help us accept it and heal and let him bless
that family. If it’s better for him to
stay with us, then please provide a way, show us the way. Please help us. Amen.”
A long pause.
Lexi sighs. “I guess
we can find a blessing. There’s
something there. This is helping me deal
with something from my childhood, so it won’t affect me as an adult.”
The girls focus on finishing homework as quickly as
possible. They cry themselves to sleep
while I toss and turn and finally sleep.
