Twilight

I was awake at 5:30am, even though the cloud cover muted the eastern sun, usually so bright at that hour. I puttered around, making tea until Greta woke up.

Kent and I were staying in a house on the beach on Whidbey Island. Our job for the week was Grandma and Grandpa Camp with our grandsons, no hard task with the beach at hand and two World Cup games to watch. As the first one up in the morning, my task was to make sure Greta could get outside right away when she woke up.

Greta is the elderly Labradoodle belonging to our daughter’s family. She’s petite, milky white, silky soft, and devoted to her family. She’s feeling her 17 years. Achy joints, partially blind, fully deaf and a terrible photo-sensitivity that wracks her with mini-seizures in sunlight. But we have blessed clouds today.

At 6:00am Greta woke up. She staggered to her feet and spent some minutes trying to rub her diseased eye, even with the cone on her head. She doesn’t speak anymore except in severe pain. I heard a high-pitched moan as she rubbed her face on the bed cushion.

I petted her gently and tried to catch her good eye and coax her towards the front door. Finally I opened the door and the cool scent of the sea floated down the hall. She slowly walked toward the breeze and out the door.

I removed her night-time diaper - clean and dry - and picked her up, hugging her to my chest. Down we went four steps to the lawn, where she did the first half of her business. No leash. No cars, no people on this isolated beach street. Three eagles flew over and I could hear one more squeaking from the channel marker at the point.

Over the years, Greta always led the way, trotting gaily, tail wagging. Today, she paced slowly beside me. When we were ready to come in, I again lifted her close to my heart and laid her gently down on the front door mat.

Greta arrived in the family as a tiny puppy in mid-summer during a record heat wave, as high as 107 degrees. Her family had a vacation scheduled and left her with us. We froze tiny stuffies and put them in her crate. She would sleep with her chin resting on them.

Greta sometimes joined us when her family was off skiing. Undaunted by snow, she would trot gaily along the white paths, snow and ice adhering to her paws and cloaking her ankles.

We began calling these stays at our house, her spa days at Chez James. Three walks a day were included in her premium plan. Over the years, this was the standard. She always loved her walks.

But in these latter days, three walks have been hard to achieve. It’s so hard to find a good hour in the summer when she can walk without being jerked to a stop or thrown on her side by the seizures. We bless the clouds on overcast days. But as time goes on, even the brightness of the overcast is too much.

How to get those three walks? She’s paid top dollar. Hartman Park is near our home, with dense forest on many of the trails. So we took to bundling her into the car and driving the two blocks to shady parking by the pool. We’d pick our way under the cedars, maples and Douglas firs to the deepest forest. Even there, we had to dodge the occasional sun-break.

This sweet lady bore two litters of pups and raised two thriving boys into their double digits. A dedicated mama, Greta was always corralling her family, not willing to leave anyone behind, always conscious of her responsibilities.

Greta is in her twilight season. God has her days firmly in mind. We give her all the joy we can. We know the end is coming, as it comes to all of us.

Seeing Greta makes me thankful for all the good gifts God has given me over the years. And I feel spurred to make use of the capabilities I have while I still have them.

Greta may not know, as we do, as St. Paul did, that the next life is “very much better”. (Phil 1:23) But she belongs to God. If no sparrow falls to the ground without our Father, surely Greta won’t either. Nor will I.

Here’s a passage for the road as I follow in Greta’s footsteps:

Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within, bless His holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits. Who pardons all your iniquities, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion; who satisfies your years with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagle. - Psalm 103:1-5