I've always loved the Edith Wharton saying, "My little dog a heartbeat at my feet." I'm luckier than most
though. I lay this morning on the couch, a heartbeat at my feet, my knees and just beneath my chin. Above
my head there was a purr.

We're caretakers of these creatures we invite into our house, it's true. But I think those without the
heartbeats at their feet, their knees and their chin remain unfortunately unaware of the care that comes
back to us a million fold. These are beings that climb into your lap when you're crying, unafraid of the
burden you might share. They lie on a chronically ill child to offer comfort without fear that what they
offer isn't enough. They take what they've got and share it. (And they'll take what their sister's got and snatch it, particularly if it's a new bully stick.)

I can't say we'd all be better off to be as loving and giving as our animals. There's something rather scary
about the thought of a human so in love with me he'd fall asleep with his face in my shoe. But it seems the
devotion dogs have to us as humans is sometimes so out of balance to what they get back. They carry about my slippers and wait for me in the kennel when it's unbearably hot even though they have access to the air
conditioned living room on days like today. They sleep on the top platform of the indoor ramp to the kennel
in December with a chill at their backs because their girl, Clarity, is gone for a week. They wait for us, simply wait.  How many of us have the patience to wait without complaint for someone or something we love? I
want it now. I wonder why it's late. I want to see results. My mind works in measures of time, with some
things seeming unbearable in duration and others happening regrettably fast. For Cali, Mira and Tansy
there seems to be only "now" and "not now". I walk to the garage in the morning and find I've forgotten my
lunch. When I walk back up the sidewalk they're thrilled to see me. I'm greeted just like I am at the end of the day. Are they foolish? I'd say not.  Cali, Mira and Tansy just seem to live perpetually in that state of grace I sometimes am privilege to when I find them in my path on an errand through the house and I'm overcome by the tenderness I feel and have to scoop them up to smell their own distinct scent as I bury my face in their fur. It's that moment of bliss and utter contentment when  you know your place in the world even with your eyes closed.

I love these little creatures, finding myself blessed in ways I can't imagine and find difficult to put into words. They hand color the photos of life that I sometimes see in only black and white and bring that heavy sigh that lightens a burdened heart. And when little else seems in my control and the world spins wobbly and threatens to topple, they fall asleep in my lap, reminding me I'm actually the epitome of safety and comfort.  I offer a thanks to all who helped to bring these furry angels to me and to those of you who help others to find one for themselves.

Copyright 2002 by Lu Wyland