White Dog is making her own slow recovery from her ill-timed leap a couple of weeks ago. Or maybe she is wisely viewing this as a transition to a new normal...that of being cautious when it comes to physical activity. She struggles with not being able to race to every window bark or jump without help up onto her command post. But she has set aside her pains, I have watched her, to gently stand over Ferguson and just share energy; then softly touch the top of his head with her muzzle and walk away.
As a social activist my days are often filled with the worst examples of interaction and lack of compassionate for our fellow beings and for the planet itself. It is hard some days not to feel that I battle for lost causes, for an ideal that does not exist.
I walk into the office and Puff is asleep on Ferguson's back, her arms wrapped around his middle and her face rising and falling with his breath. Later, Sachi is stretched out along Ferg's flank like two boys sharing a comic book.
Zsofia shyly brings in Dragon, her best toy, and lays it next to her brother. When he does not respond, she nudges it closer. She gives a small woo of encouragement. Ferguson slightly raises his head and moves to rest on top of the toy. Zso drops to her belly and places a paw on his as she softly grooms his ears.
Nilla stands guard over her "Taiko Twin," lying a respectful space apart but on alert as she takes in every movement and noise. Periodically YoYoMa deliberately walks in to check Fergus' breath. Bella pulled his blanket back over him when his shifting exposed his belly. Benson reminds me to offer water like clockwork.
And so it is across the day and through the night when Pearl and Opal take turns trotting down the hall, ever vigilant that Ferguson might be awake and have a need. If Steve needs to carry our boy outside for a middle of the night attempt to potty or ease his discomfort, he is accompanied by nearly the entire White Dog Army.
They are there at feeding time, not to beg but to offer quiet solidarity. And when meds must be given, they are there, too.
I look at them and my heart fills with their capacity to love, to care, to show compassion. We are not family by birth; the White Dog Army have come together randomly with many differences and experiences and yet there seems to be a bond, a connection, a commitment that no one gets left behind.
And I think to myself...how dare humans call themselves "masters" of these incredible complex creatures of love and light?