This morning the sun is shining and it is already 65 degrees and glorious!

The weather has been so yucky that I haven’t been able to take my dogs out for a walk most of the winter.  This morning we got to go out!  I have generations of animals in my house, including a young dog about two years old, a Yorkie that is about 11, and then my old lady (and best friend in the whole world), Ruby who is an Australian Cattle Dog.

Ruby made the trek from California with me back in 1997.  At that time she was about three years old.  That makes her about 16 now.  Back in 1998 to 2000, Ruby was my running partner for my marathon training. We spent hours –and hours – running the back roads in the small rural county in East Texas where we lived at the time.  She never slowed down and even sprinted the hills with me on hill training days.  Today, Ruby can’t make it very far past the driveway.  I can see it in her eyes that she wants to go further and she tries, but her wobbly legs just can’t do it anymore.  She has that fighter spirit though and she tries to go on, but I know if we venture too far away, she won’t be able to make it back without assistance.

This may seem like a sad story and I don’t want to make anyone sad, but there is happiness in this.  See, when I start thinking about the day Ruby won’t be by my side anymore, I do get teary eyed and sometimes I shed big ole crocodile tears, but mostly the tears are mixed with smiles and joy as I reflect on all the love, companionship and fun we’ve had over the years.  She is the most special dog.  She even saved my life on one of our long runs and found our Yorkie who was in an abusive situation.  I’ll tell you those stories someday.

So, those 2 hour runs have now become 10 minute slow walks up and down the driveway and on a good day we even make it to the neighbor’s house and back.  Those walks are special to me as I get to reflect on my life and my priorities and I find that I appreciate the aging process and life’s journey a bit more.

Just like I believe our children pick us to be their parents, I believe our pets do the same thing.  I will always remember the day I saw Ruby in the Butte County Humane Society.  While the other dogs were barking and jumping at the fences, she was the only dog quietly sitting in the middle of the kennel just looking at me with those liquid brown eyes.  She then lifted up a paw and waved it at me as if to say, “Hi, I’m here and you finally found me.”  I knew she was mine and I was hers.

I hope that in your life you find the same love and companionship with a dog that I have had with my Ruby.  She has made my life richer and fuller – more than I could have ever imagined.