I felt a surge of gratitude for Zinnia today, I call her my coronavirus companion, my pal.
I don’t know what dogs sense, but Zinnia keeps a close eye on me these days, she follows me everywhere, in the kitchen when I do the dishes, in the bathroom when I go to a shower, in the car when I go out anywhere, out into the woods where we walk, out to the mailbox when I get the mail, and in my office whenever I go there to write.
She lies down either right on my chair’s legs or my feet or a couple of inches away on her dog bed. When I am at the computer, she is still, not moving. Once in a while, she will put her warm nose against my hand if I leave it hanging., and when I reach my hand down where she is, she rolls over onto her back so I can scratch her belly.
I have the sense she is keeping watch over me.
I went into the kitchen to watch the dinner dishes, and she came in and lay down by my feet.
She sleeps in the bedroom now, on the floor, and when the sun comes up I toss her a bully stick to chew on or a cow’s ear and she does some chopping, and then leaps up on the bed to shower me with kisses and curl up on my chest.
I get a hundred licks on my face.
It’s a lovely way to get up. There is a lot of love between us.
We get the dogs we need, and this is the dog I needed, much more than I knew.
This would all have been harder and lonelier without her.
She has been with me through all of this, everywhere I drove, everywhere I went, every time I work, every time I walk in the woods. Her presence was steadying, comforting. She is full of love.
The last few days, I appreciated her company, her presence is grounding and settling. She seems to have made me part of her work, for now, perhaps sensing some tension, in the ways dogs do.
This trouble has cemented our relationship, bonded us together. She is a great dog, just as good as I hoped she would be. I miss doing our therapy work, but I know that will come, we are at the beginning of the beginning of the end.
I have the feeling I’ll be wearing masks outside for a year or so, but that life will begin to resume in the summer, not quite normal, but on the way to normal. Next summer, when a vaccine comes out, perhaps life will really return to normal.
Take care, I wish everyone patience and hope. I am so grateful for the privilege of having this dog.
Maybe you are her therapy work now.
I had a Zinnia , a blonde English style Labrador for fifteen years. Her name was Daisy and I am eternally grateful for all we had together.
Oh Jon I know just what you mean, it’s the same situation here with my Daisy, I feel that she senses my anxiety about all that is going on in the World. I was siittig at my kitchen table this morning, where my laptop sits, and was watching the news, Daisy was asleep at my feet, then the news came that a lovely young pregnant nurse had lost her life to Covid and that her baby had been delivered by Csection and was doing well. It moved me to tears and Daisy suddenly sat up and rested her chin on my knee. I don’t know how I would be coping with all of this without Daisy even though I seem to be an emotional wreck most of the time. She soothes my aching heart and raises my spirits.
They know something isn’t right. They sense how we feel. They look to us to explain, but we don’t know what to tell them. So they wait for our touch that feels the same as always and that will do for now.
Your Zinnia is my Willow. She warms my heart and I am so grateful for her.
I’m so happy that Zinnia has turned out to be exactly the companion you’ve been needing. I was once told that every animal in our lives has a purpose. Through an animal communicator I learned that my cat, who passed end of August last year, sent me a message to say his only purpose in life was me. And that it was. He guided and took care of me, giving me healing whenever I needed it, all his life. His crossing has left a huge hole in my life and makes this time of uncertainty so much more difficult.
Zinnia, it seems, has one purpose too – and that is you. What a wonderfull blessing for you both. Give her a great big hug and a kiss from me!! And enjoy the love she’s offering. xoxox
Jon, I have often felt that Zinnia is the dog that Red wanted you to have. She is so bonded to you and so loving I can’t help but think of Red. It is wonderful that she is with you at this time as the world is such a c onfusing place drifting in so many directions and scary to so many of us.
I have a little Labradoodle puppy, Oliver, who follows me almost everywhere and whether I am at the computer or in the kitchen, I look down and he is there. We are adapting to the constancy of being indoors and love the time that we are outdoors in the yard. Never having had a dog like this before I am getting used to his wanting to investigate and eat all kinds of things–I think of you often when he seems to have a preference for small rocks and leaves. Leave it is an overused word around here and I hope that someday it won’t be necessary. I haven’t written to you as often as I used to but read your words every day. You are a beacon of light in so many lives, mine included. The work you do with the students and the seniors at the mansion is heartfelt and moving. You are to be thank forever and appreciated always. Your words and work are lessons in life. Thank you Jon for years of wisdom and guidance especially now.
Nailed it! That special “I’m here for you” spirit some dogs have. My two Cavalier King Charles Spaniels are mine. The dogs I needed. One is a 7 yr puppy mill survivor and a challenge (though in a different way) like Orson.