Life's Not Always Gentle And Soft

Life's not always gentle and soft. Pet loss is not a soft blow. A recurring dream and a little divine intervention are harsh reminders that the universe does not intend it to be so.

Me being the ever-eccentric I am I smuggled the equally quirky Misty on the subway in a bag pack. The little dog displayed her unending store of self-will straightaway, biting the sides of her bag and attempting to stick her tiny head out of its opening. The commuters on the train that day were, thankfully, of a pet-centric disposition and chortled at her antics. We arrived at our destination unspotted and unharmed.

The bond between us developed hard and fast. I brought her on countless long walks, during which there were the requisite countless hours of fetch. This little canine also had a 'pawsome' gift - she tickled everyone silly with her ability to hit high notes, albeit in her way. Love songs were her favourite musical genre, with Bruno Mars being her idol. The piano version of Just the Way You Are was her go-to song, with me serving as her pianist.

Quirky as she was, Misty was truly gentle and soft. She had an eye out for the younger dogs around her, and always used her nose to nudge wayward neighbourhood puppies if they got out of line. She hardly barked, snarled or growled; she was the quintessential queen canine.

Gentle and soft didn't mean pushovers. Misty was a warrior - I have to thank her for saving me from being put out of commission by oncoming traffic with a strong tug of the leash on her part. Both of us were none the worse for wear. I gave her a quick hug.

*****

Our furry friends leave us all too soon. Misty, of course, experienced the ins and outs of being a senior. Her walk slowed, and forgetfulness set in. 

The typically stoic Schnauzer's regular vet delivered the unwelcome news that she had liver disease. Despite the twin powers of effort and research, we couldn't slow its progression, and her health went on a downward spiral.

And the dream began in earnest. Dozing off on the sofa one day, an urgent, persistent, hollow voice reverberated in my ears.

"Life's not always gentle and soft...gentle and soft.....gentle and soft...."

I got up with a start and shook my head. Where'd that come from? A better question was, what did it refer to?

After a few moments of trying to answer these questions without success, I went back to sleep. The only thing that was gentle and soft would be my pillow.

The odd dream manifested a few times over the next few nights, leaving me bewildered and in cold sweats. There was a message in them, but what it meant was beyond me.

*****

Meanwhile, Misty's health continued its downward tumble. The little canine showed symptoms of health conditions that left vets shaking more than their heads. Tests for atypical health conditions that gave dogs a challenge came up empty.  

The constant trips to the vet left me troubled and worse for wear. The amount of sleep I had lost never crossed my mind.  

My body, though, caved into the need for slumber. The odd nightmare surprised me as I fell fast asleep on the couch, exhausted by the busy afternoon. 

Its puzzling, somewhat ominous circumstances had shifted somewhat. The call came - haunting, monotonous, and lifeless. This repetition, however, had a variation. 

''Life is always...'' The voice prompted shudders. It drew me to a room with forceps, surgical gloves, and masks laid neatly on an operating table, as if waiting for someone to use them. The voice increased in urgency and volume.

Realisation dawned.

*****

I burst into the room, which served as a home to Misty's prized possessions. The hapless dog lay on her side, legs quaking.

Without hesitation, I called my husband at work. He dropped his tasks and rushed home. Misty continued her shivers, only pausing when my husband, Kelvin, arrived and knelt by her side. She quietened as if she had what she asked for.

We rushed Misty to the hospital, but it was too late for the little dog. She passed with an odd glow enveloping her face.

Life's not always gentle and soft. But we thank it for the blessing of a little dog.