Shouldn't…but Do

Captain Jack is a fine but elderly dog who lives with the Neighbor.

In his youth, Captain Jack was swarthy, mischievous, he of gleaming eye, longish legs and shaggy coat.  His youth and middle age have passed and Jack, like most of us, is not who he was.

Jack’s cocked head has given way to occasional trembling, eyes are clouded, his hearing imprecise.  Back bowed, Jack is frail, uncertain, thin – and to my reckoning – halfway between here and somewhere else.  The Neighbor and her family are the best friends a dog could have, and as she says, Jack has good days and Jack has bad days.

Good or bad – today is a glorious day on the planet for dog or human.  Spring is coming, robins abound,  temperatures are rising, the breeze rustles chaff anxious to be off.

The Neighbor was out for a few hours, so I attended Jack.  With encouragement he stepped from his soft bed in the quiet house with rhythmically ticking clocks.  He hesitated on the back deck blinking, seemingly unsure where he was, or what to do.  In time he took a cue from nature and did his business, mustering teetering energy to navigate his return to the deck.

And there he stood.  Birds swooped and cartwheeled, the breeze blew, the sun warmed his fragile being.   His unseeing gaze seemed a fence or two beyond, where younger dogs ran and barked.  Head swiveling toward the house and back, a seeming unspoken question to the sky.  The interiority of  age is upon Jack, as I imagine it is upon all who gain in years.   Jack  seems living a dream world – but which is the dream, here or there?

Perhaps interiority leads to a greater world, away from the illusory, structured, busy environment that captures our senses while they still function.  I am guessing it is so.  In the dreams of dogs, it seems so for Jack.