The Final Run

This is the strangest blog I have ever had to write, but it must be done.

At 15, or in my years, 105, things were getting so hard.  I had trouble walking, my hearing gone, my eyesight only partial.  I loved still being with the family but I felt my age. On our last trip together, I laid on the cot on the beach and felt the wind in my fur while Mommy and Daddy held me.  I helped to judge the races the kids were doing by the beach.  I watched the new dog, Hattie, run around like a fool, but I understood.  Seeing the beach for the first time feels like magic.  The first time Mommy took me I ran and ran, and barked at everyone and everything, not able to contain the joy bursting from my soul.  It was a gift.

Tonight, when Mommy returned from work, she knew something was wrong, and it wasn’t just my age.  I had gotten so confused and could no longer see.  The doctor later said it was probably a stroke.

Mommy held me, and the kids and Daddy did too.  For hours.  I could hear them just a bit and they were telling stories about me.  About my crazy adventures, like the time I chased a horse in the field next to Grandpa’s, scaring the shit out of Mommy.  Or the day the children came for their first sleepover.  I was so excited, I pranced on my hind legs and chased them up to their new rooms, proudly showing them the new paint in their rooms-chosen by Mommy as their favorites.  They told the story of how last fall, I hiked several miles with them on Grandfather Mountain, so eager to stay ahead that I practically pulled Mommy down-and how I slept in the camper for the rest of the trip. Mommy told the story about years ago, when she was so sad and alone, how she and I would sit up all night with the TV on, holding each other while she cried.  Mommy talked about how I used to run around the dining room table and out the dog door, with one of her shoes as a chew toy.  Daddy told the story of how when he met Mommy, I was MAD.  I knew he was her forever person, and I was jealous because I had liked it just the two of us.  But with him, came Bella.   The fat, farting best friend I ever had.  She walked into my life and I had a companion, a cuddle partner, and my forever friend.  My sister.

I slept in everyone’s arms tonight for a while.  Mommy held me on the way to the doctor.  I was mostly asleep the whole time.  Everyone gave me so much love that I was never scared.  And as I slowly left this earth, I was held by Mommy, with hands of the kids and Daddy on me.  They were whispering so many wonderful words “I love you”  “Thank you for being my best friend”  “ I will forever love you and see you when I get there” “I hope it’s wonderful”  and “run Ben, just keep running” As I slipped away, I only knew the love that I had had for so many years, Mommy kissing my head the whole time.

It was beautiful and bright.  I felt warm, and there was that breeze in my fur that I always loved.  An older man, with a beard and crazy mustache approached me….I knew in minute it was Mommy’s Daddy.  His photo was all over the house, and he had that kind smile Mommy always talked about.  “I’m so happy to meet you, Ben”, he said.  “Lauren asked me to be here for you, she never wanted you to feel alone.”  He picked me up and we walked to the beach.

The beach.  It’s full of my friends.  I looked in the back, and Kaiya and Justice were quietly sitting.  My cousin Lucy was there, wagging her long tail.  Kenzie from the old neighborhood quietly walked up.  Then I saw Kodak.  I turned around and there was my last girlfriend, Trinket.  Piper from the bus stop is here, and so is Rascal.  Around the bend came Baxter and Jessie, my other cousins.  Bosco walked up with Gracie.   Felicity came out of the ocean to greet me.  She has no bumps and she is healthy.  She nuzzled me and told me everything was going to be ok.

From the distance, another dog was running toward us, down the beach.  She came into view, it was Bella.  But she no longer is blind, and she can run.  The man put me down, and I realized, I too could see again, and I too could run.  I ran and ran to meet her.  She smiled.  She licked me.

“Where are we, Bella?”, I asked. 

“Don’t fear, sweet Ben.  This is heaven.  This is where we wait for Mommy and Daddy.  But we get to watch them from here.  We get to be their angels now.”

I understood. 

There is sunshine, and seagulls, there is wind, and I can hear the ocean again. I am happy here.  They even brought in milkshakes to welcome me.  The older man cuddled me tonight.  He’s second best, but I can see why Mommy loved him so.

Mommy always loved to tell me my adoption story when I was laying on her chest, falling asleep..  She said I was her love, her best friend, and her angel puppy.  She knew how to snuggle me to the last moment, and she and I were inseparable.

  If you see my mom in the coming weeks, please understand why she’s not ok. And that she is doing her best . We were best friends for 15 years.  We did everything together, from fancy hotels to hiking to restaurants to roadtrips to swimming to the ridiculous birthday parties she had for me.  She loved me more than any dog has been loved and she’s trying to figure out how to live without me sitting next to her.  Mommy had to help me get to heaven, even though she never wanted to help make that choice.   I can see her from above, and she’s broken.  But she’s always been tough, I know she will be ok.  She just might need some help from her friends.  Maybe some cuddles.

She always called me her angel.  I guess now I really am.  It’s a big job, but until she gets here, it’s what I’ll do.  I'll watch out for her now.  While having another milkshake.

Roughing it

Our family recently purchased a new camper---it's pretty sweet.  Let me tell you a bit of this backstory.
Bob and I loved camping-even independently before we knew each other.  In college, I worked for an outdoor store and have loved camping ever since.  It's my inner hippie that I now hide under my suit.  Catch me camping and I'm in a doo rag, drinking a beer with my old koozie and walking late night with my dog.  Bob says every now and then the hippie comes out.  She is full on today.
When we married, we took a few tent trips together and had fun.  Truth be told, Ben the Dog never really slept when we camped, always ready to defend me.  Bella the Bulldog, Bob's dog, took his cue, and one of our laughable memories now was that after a long night in the tent, Bob turned to me and said, "So glad to see NO ONE slept last night."
The kids came along and we introduced them.  We tent camped on Grandfather Mt in NC--now a treasured and special place for us.  However, that first night was a full on debacle.  After dinner we put the kids in their tent right beside ours and then the skies opened.  Thunder, lightening and horrific storms.  It's no surprise that we all ended up in one tent, like sardines.  I was sure the kids would never camp again.  The following morning, Bob went out to find coffee only for the woman at the coffee shop to offer him shelter as he was a bit worse for the wear.  Coming down the mountain that afternoon, we stopped to check out campers on a whim.  Was it really a whim?  And let's be clear--genius marketing is placing your RV shop a the base of a known camping location.   Trust me--I do this for a living.
A year later, we had a hybrid camper--opened on both ends in tent form.  It was awesome.  At that time we had Felicity the Bulldog, Ben the Dog's latest sister from a local rescue.  She was a doll but enamored with me so we spent the first trip fearful she'd jump through a window to accompany me anywhere I went.  Thus, I had a trusted comrade for all my trips to the trash receptacle.  That weekend Ciera was grounded because she had comandered  the stereo.  I also almost took out a woman at the soccer park who told me the park that we were playing at was "dog free".  Whatever.  I actually don't want to live in a world that is dog free.
We had tons of adventures in that camper, from returns to Grandfather to beaches in Edisto, to West Va with Bob's family.  I learned that the simple life still entices me.  I have operationalized the preparation such that somewhere, someone owes me a black belt for the end to end process.
This past January, Bob and I went to the RV show.  Like all shows, they wisely serve beer.  We eagerly took in all the new features available and started thinking about what we could do if we were all in committed to this camping life.
Always on the hunt for a deal, Bob befriended a gentleman in Georgia, willing to sell a very gently used small Winnebago--literally, y'all, it's called a Minnie Winnie.  I know because I am an active member of the Facebook group.
This camper has taken me to a whole new level of decorating and preparation, but the bunk beds, outdoor kitchen and awning have alerted me that I am fringing on not really camping.  But here's the real deal.
I am writing this from the middle of the Smoky Mountains.  I brought the gang here last year for the first time.  I used to come here with a few friends when I was in college, and this year we are staying at the same campground I did 20 years ago.  (I know you are asking yourself-how can that be true? Lauren doesn't look like that's even possible.  I share your surprise, friends.). My kids are off playing with other children, I have never seen Isaiah so messy and excited, and Ciera so peaceful.  Bob is reading by the fire, and Ben the Dog (who truly will outlive us all)is sleeping on his lap.  Yesterday we hiked in the National Park and got all wet in the Pigeon River.
Sometimes life is a rat race, right?  It's crazy and it's all I can do to fit in 30 mins to run or take a bath,  For real.  I am an effing taxi cab.
I am sitting here realizing how blessed I am.  I have my people nearby.  A stack of books.  Took everyone to play bumper cars earlier and now have a Wicked Weed Pernicious in my koozie.  Amazing run yesterday.  Played in the river.
Blessed?  Beyond.  Almost embarrassedly so.
Reality---not really roughing it in this camper that has been a tremendous adventure.  But when I think back on my life, these are probably the days I'll remember with smiles.  The kids still want to hang with us, my husband likes to hold my hand, and blessed, my almost 15 year old dog is happy to be with us.
I'll take it.  ALL.  DAY.  LONG.