Pawnshop redemption...

“…therefore be comforted under your afflictions, and believe

that the Almighty has a particular regard to you…

when they have done the business they are

sent for, they shall be removed

from you.” Mrs. Veal

- Daniel Defoe, The apparition of Mrs. Veal

I walked in the pawnshop and she glanced with a casual and knowing look as if to say, “Oh yeah, just another customer.” 

In her new role as guardian of the business, she wandered over and sniffed the cuff of my trousers and shoes, out of curiosity as much as anything else – it was her job.

Then it hit her.  It was me!  She went wild and danced as if she had been shot with a Taser gun.  Irresistibly, I found myself on the floor with her as she pushed and prodded trying to get as close as she possibly could…it was if we both tried to understand why our skin seemed to be too much clothing…separating her little soul from mine.

Back it up a few months…

When it became clear Nancy was not going to be coming home, we knew something needed to be done with Riley.  “…done with Riley!”  Even the phrase seemed awkward and in many respects totally disrespectful. I mean, how do you ‘do something’ with a creature who had provided so much solace, so much love, so much attention and loyalty to her companion, and truly best friend.  Riley was my sister’s unrelentingly loyal friend as her life began diminishing like a ship sailing deliberately into the western horizon…smaller and smaller and smaller yet…

The family counseled together about what we should do.  Nancy’s daughter was in medical school and living in a small apartment…our house in California was small with three cats already well entrenched.  After some discussion my other older sister in Vienna, Virginia volunteered.  While she had the least exposure to Riley over the years, she did have room and agreed to take her for a year.  This would mean removing the dog to a strange place, but it would be a good home with a kind and loving guardian. 

In truth, we had hoped to keep her local so that she might visit Nancy from time to time, but under the circumstances, it was the best we could do….the best…we could do.  A date was set; my sister would make the 15-hour, one-way, drive, pick Riley up and take her home with her. 

While the family was in different stages of mourning regarding Nancy’s steadily declining condition, Riley’s impending departure was like driving a coffin '...spike of finality...' into our hearts…everything had now changed – for everybody!

You never know…

Sometimes, however, there is a different plan afoot…one that is unseen, presenting itself almost from thin air…a more thoughtful and elegant solution than our “…best laid plans…” – and so it was with Riley. 

While in Missouri after Nancy had moved and the ‘Riley solution’ had been decided, I mentioned the situation to a friend. I shared how losing Riley was like the small and final straw of sorrow dropped on the camel’s back, that had been my sister’s life. 

He said, “Wait a minute, I wonder if Bob and Anne might be willing to take Riley?”  Bob, another family friend had never even come to mind, but we had known he and his wife for many years – they were trusted friends.  He continued, “You know Bob has a pawn shop and I’ll bet Riley would make a good shop as well as family dog.”  What a GREAT IDEA!!

The family quickly counseled and it felt like a good thing.  Riley would remain local, possibly being able to visit Nancy; Anne would be spared 30 hours in the car.  Fine on our end, but would Bob and Anne take her?  They agreed – a real and unexpected blessing.  Riley would have a wonderful home in which to live…she would be both needed and loved.  What more could a dog ask for…what more could any of us ask for? 

This would be a small ray of sunshine in the otherwise mythic tragedy that had become my sister’s, and millions of other’s, so afflicted, lives.

That was then – this is now…

I had come to Missouri, at the last minute, because some unforeseen issues had arisen.  Unforeseen is probably not correct…they were foreseen – just not so quickly.  After all, Nancy had only been in the ‘Harmony Hall’ Alzheimer’s assisted living facility for six months or so.  It had become evident, however, she was no longer harmonious enough to remain in the facility.  She would need to be ‘staged’ to another level of care. ”Staged”… how cold…how clinical…how impersonal…how ‘somebody else’s relative’ – not my sister! 

One might say, tongue in cheek, she had outgrown the place, but in fact she had slipped to a level where the facility simply was not equipped to deal with her.  She wasn’t nursing home material yet, but also not assisted living either. This came to a head just when my niece was moving into her final week before her medical school examinations…a stressful situation under any circumstance.  My niece is about as resilient and strong as any young woman I have ever known, but this…this was just too much to handle all at once.

Stuff to do…

I arrived on a Saturday and Monday began transition work with Nancy.  It is a curious thing how one is able to compartmentalize intimately personal things when action is required.  How arrangements are made, papers signed, issues discussed – you know the business of tragic care – whether provisions for the funeral at the loss of a loved one or the logistics of care for a loved one in the process of being lost…

Thursday afternoon came around and most of the work regarding her move, and adjustment to the new facility, had taken place…the week had been hard.  There was a break in the action, in a manner of speaking, so I hopped in the car and headed for Jefferson City to ‘Capitol Pawn’ at the junction of Highway 50 and Eastland Drive.

My heart was beating a little faster than usual as I pulled into the parking lot – love combined with apprehension does that to you.  It had been a few months…would she recognize me…would she dance as she always did when I visited Nance…would she nuzzle and push and lick, and yes, in her own way – smile…I guess I wondered whether she would love me with the intensity that had been the hallmark of the years we had played together.

As she gave me the once over…you know the look, I wasn’t sure.  As she wandered over to see who this customer was, I wasn’t sure.  As she sniffed the cuff of my trousers and shoes, I wasn’t sure…BUT then as she went wild with the enthusiastic expression of love…as she slipped into the familiar and so comforting greeting that had been the hallmark of the years we had known each other…I am not sure why there had been any doubt. 

There wasn’t any, “Hey where have you been?” or “Why did you abandon me?” or “I thought we were friends?”  No indeed, there was just Riley and me…no pawnshop…no distance…no time…just us.

In the theater of life, it is my sense that God has given us dogs, cats and other animals to care for us…to shelter us from the storm…to provide us with comfort when needed.  It’s a clever misdirection.  While we think we are providing for them, in fact, it is just the opposite!

Take this home…

At the end of this week, I was tired and in need…the kind of need that I didn’t even know…the kind of need that only becomes apparent when there is time to breathe and reflect – I had had neither.  Seeing Riley for those few moments…holding her…caressing her…and feeding from her spirit, strengthened me in ways she would never know.  She strengthened me in ways most people would never know.

In those few moments I understood what Nancy had always known about this dog that had so comforted her in those quietly shared, and yes…sacred moments.

Thanks Riley…there is no way for me to say, or you to know how I needed that.

- ted