I took my Boston Terrier, Buttons, to the Vet a few weeks ago for her annual physical. I still am still adjusting to the concept of a dog having an annual physical but I guess that is part of modern life – at least in Cohasset.
As we awaited our turn in line, to be registered for the examination, a back side door swung open and out came a couple. One of them was holding a little fury white poodle, resting comfortably in her arms. I remember the little poodle looked straight at me with her jet black pearl shaped eyes as they walked by. I thought poodles must be very intelligent dogs. I noticed that the couple looked rather sad.
After they left, a Vet and another attending person solemnly walked out from the back room. I knew something unusual was up. I overheard words like “so sad…nothing we can do”… “they are having some final moments together”. I sensed chilling implications which I could not fully comprehend as the little poodle seemed rather alert while she sat contentedly in the arms of her owner when they passed by.
While in the exam room with Buttons, who was bravely enduring intrusive prods, pulls, shots and temperature taking, I gazed out the window. In the parking lot I again saw the couple with the white poodle in their arms as they sat inside a large SUV. They held and hugged the poodle. One of them was bent over crying and the other obviously holding back tears.
With the exam complete, Buttons and I headed to our car. As we got in I noticed the couple was now quietly standing by their SUV. No poodle in sight. Then out the front door came the Vet – all dressed in white and holding what looked like a giant folded burrito – totally encasing its now quieted contents. I finally realized what was coming down here…even Buttons knew something was up as she was now sitting beside me in the front seat – both of us staring at a sad scene, head to head. I remember thinking: “Shouldn’t they being doing this at the back or side door?”
The Vet solemnly, and with what appeared to be words of consolation, handed over the soft enveloped package to one of the owners who accepted it with tears. As she walked back to their SUV the other owner followed with a helpless grimace you don’t want to see often in your life.
Buttons and I drove home by the long route along the ocean – both of us silent as she sunk quietly into the front seat and stared ahead as dogs sometimes do on long rides.
Since that day I have wondered from time to time about the attachments we make in life. And I have wondered why and how we can come to be so attached as to actually seem to love other beings such as dogs as much as we do people. I used think that love was something just between people. But now I am not so sure. The strong emotion of attraction and love between people may, through our self-centeredness, blind us to the wider vistas and possibilities of love. And as I see and experience more of life I am less sure of or in need of trying to compact or define or even limit the definition of love of any kind. I have no right to judge anyways.
Nowadays, when I come home at night and Buttons greets me by jumping up, wagging her tail and all, I appreciate her warm greeting much more than I used too. Now I not only pat her on the back but I often bend over and hold her cute square little face in my hand and look straight into her beautiful brown eyes. At these moments I wonder if she still remembers what we saw that day at the Vet’s office….and I wonder if she knows what I am thinking.
Kevin McCarthy resides at 155 Fairoaks Lane and can be reached at: mccart9@gmail.com. Kevin is also a member of the Cohasset Board of Selectman (BoS) but his above comments are his own personal views and are not attributable to the BoS.
