Not too long ago, I reunited with Bonnie at the senior dog sanctuary. Clyde passed away almost year ago and my visits to Bonnie have become infrequent as her ability to walk declined.
We met in the back yard and the river ran with some haste because of recent rain.
I have missed this river and I have sorely missed my interactions with Bonnie and Clyde. My book about my adventures with them is now out and I wish I could read passages from it to the dogs, at our favorite spot on the river where the elk forded and the beavers gnawed.
Bonnie had grown grayer muzzle since our last meeting (so have I) and her hind legs barely worked anymore. Still, we managed a short walk in the field. At one point, she flopped down on the grass and didn’t want to get up when I called for her to follow me into the yard. I had to help her up and then somewhat usher her through the gate. It was certainly our last walk together. She doesn’t have much time left.
Bonnie and Clyde saved my life and soon they’ll both be gone. I only hope that the book conveys how much they meant to me in the aftermath of my extinction of self, and how much of my reanimation as a human being I can attribute to them. I had help from some incredible human beings as well, but these two senior dogs were a special magical force.