James W. Bolton High Class of 1968: 2012

Me and Blue
One hot June day about 2 summers ago, now, I remember standing at the threshold of my front door without my spectacles, barely able to make out images of two persons, one seemingly on all fours. Curious, I thought. Both were kind of scraggly and ragamuffins, and a bit underweight. In a few seconds I caught a faint odor seemingly wafting on the breeze, coming from their direction. Something smelled not so fresh, a combination of diesel fuel and yeast maybe.*
My eyes focused. I realized one was a canine. Of the two, the canine seemed the more attractive, frankly. Certainly a happy and more outgoing sort than the reserved owner who didn’t smile. Oh good, I said inside my head. A neighbor with a dog. I get the best of all worlds, dog companionship and no vet bills.
Within a few days, the new human neighbor introduced himself. “Hi. I’m Mark. This is Blue.” Within a few more days, Mark handed over a key to his house. A bit too trusting, I thought. It’s a good thing I’m trustworthy, I muttered to myself.   Anyway, from that day forward, it felt like I always had Blue; that Blue and I had each other.
Sometimes, I felt prideful. Boy is the owner a lucky dog to have me, I’d say to myself. Turns out I was the lucky one in the deal. By divine appointment, Blue and I had each other. Mostly to Blue’s credit, Blue loved everybody. And I needed someone to love and someone to love me back. Blue was just the ticket.
*poetic license taken here; Mark never really smelled.
I appointed myself part-time caretaker and official dog walker of this here dog. When I could focus on anything but Blue, I realized both Blue and Mark had begun to smell a little better, too. They both began to get a little more meat on their bones. I warmed especially to that Blue. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out something sad had happened in both their lives, but that they were on the mend. I never asked what it was. Not my place. I was just the dog walker; but, the important point is Blue and I had each other. So a bunch of good stuff happened over the next 2 and ½ years. Mark’s seeming-soul-mate, Kim, a voluptuous shit-together red-head who owned a Schnauzer named Finley, showed up. I noticed Mark smiling more. I liked Kim instantly. I was relieved Mark had Kim.
So now, Mark had Kim and Blue. Kim had Finley, so, of course Mark and Blue had Kim and Finley. Even I had Kim as a friend. And I still had Blue. Blue had me. Blue and I had each other. The world was a good place.
Then, on a chilly February morning, here’s what happened. I walked outside. Kim called me over to her. I saw she was crying. She said, “today is the day.” It took a full 30 seconds to sink in. After all, I had never seen Kim not smile. What could she possibly be sad about? My mind couldn’t take in what she meant without careful deliberation. It hit. I burst into tears. “Blue had a bad night,” she said. “Couldn’t walk. Couldn’t sleep.”
No, this was impossible. I had Blue. I always had Blue. Blue and I had each other. That was a constant.
So anyway, here’s what happened that evening. Mark was decisive and then acted as quickly as a human possibly could have.... Kim left for work. I missed her all day. Mark cried all day. Mark wasn’t much good without Kim. Blue wasn’t herself. “Kim, get here,” I kept on saying inside my head. The sunset was beautiful but offered no comfort. “Where’s Kim?” I found myself thinking it had been the longest day of my life. It grew dark. We all needed Kim so bad.
Then two Nice People in a little van arrived. The Nice People walked inside to see Blue. I went in. The casita and my world had never seemed so small before.
I lingered inside a few minutes with Finley; and Mark, tactfully and quietly as always, suggested I might take Finley to my house. Finley and I went to my house. We paced. Finley and I came out. Went in. Came out.
I sighed with relief as I saw Kim, not so slowly, wheel her vehicle into the Parking Spot No One Ever Parks In. I knew she’d come as soon as she could. She went in with Mark and Blue. I kind of dutifully hung around outside with Finley on leash. As I sat, I was reminded of the verse, perhaps credited to Milton, "They also serve who only stand and wait....." Painful, painful moments. From a pragmatic angle, no more people could have fit in that tiny casita, but it had meant the world to me that Mark had invited me to witness the final moment. I had exited. I was a bit torn, but resolved and content with my decision to remain outside.
I also like being helpful by being dutiful, above all. So Finley and I walked, then waited; then we walked and waited. Then we just waited. Suddenly, Finley sat up real straight and looked like he was at attention. He faced east. He acted like something very very important was happening. He seemed respectful. He was unusually quiet and still. Like a brave, strong, and good little soldier or something.
Mark’s front door opened. The team of experts came out. Their kindness was evident even in their walk. I saw they had been a great comfort to Mark and Kim. They had exercised patience and expedience.
After one from the Team of Nice People and Mark himself loaded Blue, completely covered in a clean wool blanket, they gave me berth. How kind and respectful of everybody, I thought. What an honor to be included like this. After all, I’m just the dog walker.
I touched her one last time. It was the familiar conformation of her flank that met my hand. She was warm and still. That same warmth had provided me solace during an occasional crying jag, and had lulled me to sleep for many an afternoon nap in the cold. Her warm mass had rolled into me often, expressing affection.
I could only mouth the words thank you, you did your job well, such feeble expression of what I felt, as feeble as her old hind legs had become.
They asked me if I would like to see her.  I declined. I had said my tender good-byes earlier and wanted to remember her as I left her, heart still beating, eyes focused and curious, my head submerged in her generously proffered pile of neck fur, and telling her Good Dog again and again, forcing words to come from my broken heart and out my contorted mouth....had reminded her what a very, very good and great job she had done on this earth.
To comfort myself, I made myself recall the many, many times I walked her when it was cold outside, or extremely hot. I recalled the self-discipline it took to be a good guardian over one member of God's most gentle and loving breed of all, the Labrador Retriever.......thanked God for all He's given us and for all over which he has granted us dominion ....it didn't diminish the ache.
I still remember the inconsolable desperation I felt as a child when we would lose a dachshund at 2501....it seems to have grown no easier in adulthood to part with a beloved canine than it was in those early childhood years. The emotions refuse to be stuffed anywhere. The tears pour off and on throughout the night, and I found myself gripped with the hopelessness a young child might feel. This will pass soon, I remind myself again and again, in my most adult self-talk.
Blue got me through my first surreal days of retirement, when all I could do was sit on the west patio and watch her catch flies.
She was a good listener. Would never retell.
My favorite memory is Blue and I eating pecans together, her pointing them out then looking at once imploring and dictatorial at me to break them open. Loved her slimy saliva on my hand for some reason as she gently but ravenously devoured every little broken piece.   It was our secret thing to do under a huge shade tree, and somehow an ample supply of fresh ones dropped from the tree each day, even though it was August.   Our ritual lasted all the way through two stultifying Phoenix summers.
Ultimately, we would both get busted for trespassing on another's property. We processed the rebuke with indignation then forgiveness toward the lady who yelled at us, Blue not being able to hold a grudge.
Besides, Blue and I had gotten in trouble while we were side by side. Partners in crime, as it were; and maybe we were a little arrogant, too. The ranting woman had only valuable property.
Blue and I had each other.