Excuse the sentimentality of this. It has all the makings of a Guideposts story. I'll just try to tell it simply and directly. Rosalie's cousin Orville has prostate cancer. He has been told he has two months to live. He came today expecting this visit to be his last. He behaved as he always has: cheerfully, upbeat, without self-pity, with hope and faith. I am really fond of this man and have been honored and delighted to get to know him.
When Orville came in today with his wife Ruth, he sat in the recliner and asked to put his feet up, so I lifted the footrest for him. Rudy was very attentive to him and was well-behaved. I urged him to lie down on the footrest next to Orville and he complied. Soon he laid his muzzle across the shin of Orville's leg as he has only done with me to date. He bonded with Orville in a way I have never seen him do, serene and relaxed with this gentleman he has seen only one other time, fitting in his company just like an old shoe. (Thence the nickname, one of course many I've given him.)
Orville said that Rudy gave him great comfort and intimated that it would be nice to have Rudy's company from now on. I said that I would like to send Rudy home with him but he goes crazy when he travels. I could not let him go, of course. He comforts me too much to let him go. I was right there as Rudy lay beside Orville. He would grieve for me if he were gone away from here, as Rosie observes. He grieved for his original master for a long, long time.
Anyhow, it is awfully good that Rudy was good to Orville today, for whatever reason. Thanks, Old Shoe.
1 comment:
Rudy epitomizes all of the love and spirit that I have ever heard of any dog having. He is a legend.
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