Coorie Doon *

Fall, with its brilliant changling leaves and green apple sweet-tart crispness to the evening and pre-dawn air, brings a sense of “coorie doon” to my soul.  A settling in of the bones for a time when the nights are long, cold and best passed under the warmth of a soft comforter.  A time for reflection of days past and those to come.

As I watch my Charlie Dog, I know the dark moment will too soon arrive when I have to let him go…to send him out of my physical life. This cancer is a death sentence for him with the timing being unknown and unwillingly orchestrated by me. There is no reprieve…no miracle spontaneous cure…not even a remission. And, yet he eats, sleeps, runs the yard, lolls in the grass, begs for treats, snarfs the floor for abandoned morsels and for all the world looks to be a healthy older dog.  Inside the beast eats its way across his mouth and tongue.

I do not look inside. I know what lives there. It returned too quickly and viscously even after his very capable vet’s best to remove the festering beast.  Instead I clean the wound and attempt to exert some control over the incessant licking that is the only indication of the pain he feels. (The vet was called today for meds…I am unwilling let him go yet.) I take him camping where he enjoys the new scents and attention paid by people unable to guess his breed (Boykin Spaniel).

Unaware of the monster within, Charlie is full of life. He is a cheerful dog…much like the stereotypical drunken Irishman with that ear-to-ear grin and bubbly boyish charm. He bounds up the steps, wiggles from head to toe when I come home, oft times getting so excited he has to bark to release the energy, and begs unashamedly for any crumb I am willing to drop or hand him. 

Charlie’s unabashed enjoyment of rolling in the grass…and thereby attaching any loose flotsam from the yard to his curly fur…makes me laugh. I have a vivid memory of him, staples still attached from back surgery, flipping over in the grass, rolling and twisting with what appeared to me to be a look of pure bliss. He is the first dog I’ve owned to exhibit this behavior; having seen it before only from horses in their pastures.

Charlie brings me joy and I will miss that and selfishly cling to his life for just a while longer.

In the end, I will have to do what is best for my four-legged, furry friend and companion of the last 14 years.

I just can’t do it today.

Today, I will coorie doon with him in the old feather comforter he loves, rub his curly head and remember days spent in the sun. I don't know what he thinks...I just hope he knows he's loved.

*Scot’s for snuggle down.