Cayman was my first
and only dog. A Christmas puppy in 1997 from my partner, Michael,
shortly after I graduated from college as a clinical social worker.
My partner struggled with alcoholism that left me feeling lonely. He
blessed me with Cayman. A sable
sheltie
who had been shipped to Anchorage from a puppy mill in Missouri who
was barely six weeks old, had huge eyes and was nearly bald. With
love, his coat blossomed and he grew to be a strong, handsome and
magnificent being. Little did I know the effect he would have on my
life or the lives of so many.
In his first year, Cayman would go
with me to visit patients in adult daycare centers who were too
depressed or demented to speak.
He would jump on their laps and give
them kisses to make them smile. Some centers made special
doggie
treats for our visits. The seniors took great pleasure in making him
do little tricks for treats. Cayman loved to perform. Some years
later, while working a summer program for seriously emotionally
disturbed children, we had Cayman Day every Thursday. Cayman helped
the kids to work together, to be quiet, to play safe and to feel
lovable. An 8 year old boy who refused to talk, learned that it was
safe to talk with Cayman, and on our departure, would hold Cayman
and whisper, "I love you so much, Cayman, please come back." Earlier
this year, Cayman helped me in the primary care clinic where I work
with the homeless. When clients would cry, he would tuck his nose in
their legs and they would smile. For a few minutes, they could pet
his softness and remember that they must not be so bad after all.
After a few visits to the clinic, he started to act like he owned
the joint and staff treated him like my little assistant. He helped
everybody to relax
and to enjoy the moment.
Cayman was and
will always be my beautiful Prince, master teacher, play mate, and
noble protector. He changed my life. Life will never be the same,
and for now, I am feeling very lost without him by my side. Like
him, I must muster the strength to move forward and to find joy even
in this pain just like he did. For nine months he was a gallant
fighter through nasal cancer. No pain could keep him from doing
joyful spins and chasing his favorite sticks in our field of green
clover and daisies. We played up until the day before his tumor
erupted. His suffering ended within a few hours. His little body
was put to rest in my arms so his beautiful spirit could make way
for the Rainbow Bridge. One week later, a rainbow appeared in the
sky.
My little Angel, Cayman, shine your
light and lead the way until we meet again. I love you with all my
heart.
Your Guardian Mom |