Marco came into the world as Nana was getting ready to leave it. They met once at Christmastime in 1994, in Plymouth, Massachusetts. She petted him and fell asleep but not before she looked at him, a pup of 13 weeks in my arms and then at me and declared “You love that dog, don’t you, Carla?”
Marco is my dog. He is my source of unconditional love, consumer of cookies, my comfort and joy. He is a 33 pound, salt and pepper Standard Schnauzer whose father, Pa, won “Best in Breed, Group and Show” at the 1997 Westminster Dog Show. Marco is 13 and a half years old. Four months ago, he was diagnosed with cancer and given that many months to live without chemotherapy. His other mother and I decided against treatment. We didn’t want to make him sick in order to try to make him “well”. Our decision was affirmed by friends who are veterinarians and know Marco, as well as friends who’ve been down similar, wrenchingly painful paths with their dogs.
Four months have come and gone and my sweet boy is still with us, robust as ever. He eats like a food vacuum. He plays ball with the ardor, ability and addiction of the Red Sox’s Dustin Pedroia (but much cuter with more hair). I am grateful for every second I’m with him. But I become still with fear imagining what it would be like without him. I cry and become crazed with a deep, unremitting sense of loss. I try to not get embedded in this chasm and rather focus on the present. If he’s with me, I hug him, give him a cookie and tell him how much I love him and how much better he’s made my life. If he’s with his other Mother, I say a prayer of gratitude for him and pick up the phone to call and see how he is.
What has my beloved canine given me? Understanding how to be a better human. Accepting tears as an appropriate expression of emotion and learning one should not run away from tears or those who cry them; move closer and “be” with them. Taking time to play regularly with gusto and earnestness. Using eye contact and touch to best communicate feelings. Showing love with zealous devotion, no matter if you’ve been waiting for hours, if someone’s been cross with you or if someone has made a mistake or hurt you. Asking for what I need with humility. Adopting courage to be strong in myself while being open and gentle with those who I love. And making people laugh by acting goofy or smiling so your teeth show.
How does this tie to Nana? I had similar feelings of fear about losing her--- the stillness, tears, and unthinkable future without her. This wonderful woman tried to teach me it’s OK to cry, that people need the love of others and that laughter is a gift. Sadly, Nana’s life lessons were lost on me at the time for whatever reason. But in the continuum of life, Nana stayed with me, and successfully continued her tutelage through Marco. Faith assures me that Marco will also continue with me. His spirit will be with me and guide me. Both his and Nana’s will. I just have to be still and hear them. And trust that when a source of love and wisdom goes away--- it never really leaves.
