Freyja-dog, who finds treasure in green felt clown hats discarded on damp sidewalks and joy in the orphaning of bright socks and mittens, gladly bears the burden of my happiness.
On good days, she skips after the crows when they tease her and spins whirling dervish style in ecstatic circles at the feet of her chosen favorites. But on bad days, I bear her up and down the three flights of stairs and sleep on the floor to keep her company.
This is no burden while joy still resides in tail and eyes, infectious and whole. She deserves all this and more. Anything else I will tuck into the darkest corner beneath the bed so I will not have to speak it.
I’ve known for some time now that my girl has intervertebral disc disease. She’s coming out of her worst flare up to date and I’m three weeks into carrying her up and down the stairs and sleeping on the floor with her. Her condition is still very manageable with anti-inflammatories and rest, but my heart twinges each time this happens and my poor Freyja is laid up. But I can tell she’ll be back to her old self soon – is already getting frustrated with the forced inactivity. Another three weeks of caution and rest and we’ll be back to chasing the pigeons.