All That Ails You: The Adventures of a Canine Caregiver

by Mark J. Asher

  “Michelle, please . . . stay out of this,” Mark responded, getting agitated.

  “If you’re going to get into it with your father, Mark, pull over right now,” Michelle said adamantly. “I don’t want to be in the back seat, while you’re driving angry.”

  Mark found an open spot on the right side of the road, and pulled the car over.

  The car fell silent, and the longer it stayed that way, the more uncomfortable everyone in it became. I could feel Michelle nervously shifting in her seat beside me.

  Finally, Walter began to speak. “Listen, I know you aren’t happy with the father I was, but unfortunately, I can’t change that now. I didn’t want to be like my old man, but that’s who I became. I’ve hated myself and everyone around me for most of my life because of it.”

  Mark leaned back against the headrest and didn’t respond.

  After staring straight ahead for a few moments, Walter reached over and put his hand on Mark’s wrist. “Son, I want you to know before I die that I love you,” he said softly, turning toward him. “I know it’s a small consolation for the father I wasn’t, but it’s the best I can do.”

  It looked as if Mark was going to say something to his father, but instead he leaned forward, put his head in his hands, and began to sob.

  “I waited a long time to hear that,” he said finally.

  “Well, I don’t have a long time left to say it, and I’m glad I finally did. I only wish I had said it sooner.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “You could say it again if you want, Walter,” Michelle suggested, trying to add a little levity to the moment.

  “Okay, I’ll even do one better . . . I love both of you.”

  “Thank you, Walter. I love you too,” Michelle said.

  “And,” Walter added, “I think the two of you should get married.”

  “What?” Mark responded, stunned. “When I told you I was getting married the first time, you said—in front of my future wife—that marriage is the biggest mistake a man can make.”

  “Can’t a dying man have a change of heart?” Walter responded.

  The car was still thick with emotion, but it felt as if a long pent up damn had finally broken.

  Michelle scooted up to the space between the two front seats, and put her arms around Mark and Walter, bringing them close together. When she moved away, the two men stayed connected for a long embrace.

  “I love you, Dad,” I heard Mark whisper.

  By the time Mark and Walter separated, their eyes were filled with tears.

  I had been quietly watching the monumental moment unfold. It was time for me to become part of it. I made my way behind Michelle, and squeezed between her and the passenger seat. I turned toward Walter and began licking his face.

  “Wrigley!” Mark said, slapping his hands against the steering wheel. “I almost forgot you were here.” I lunged across Michelle and slurped his face.

  “I’m insulted, Wrigley,” Michelle said to me. “Everyone gets a kiss but me?” She stuck her face out, and I licked it repeatedly. “Thank you, sweet boy,” she said, smiling.

  Everyone was emotionally exhausted and hungry. Michelle handed Mark and Walter protein bars before opening the cooler and setting aside a cup of yogurt for herself. Once they finished their snacks, Mark started the car and we got back on the road.

  “I have an idea, Dad,” Mark said, scooting me off of the center console. “Why don’t we go to the batting cage for old-time’s sake? You can watch your star second baseman hit a few.”

  “I think I can make it a little while longer,” Walter replied.

  “Are you sure you’re up for it, Walter?” Michelle asked.

  “If it’s not for too long, I should be okay.”

  A few miles down the road, Mark spotted a sign that read Billy’s Bat-A-Way, and pulled into the parking lot. When we got out of the car, a young boy behind a gated area in front of us, was hitting balls thrown by a machine. One pitch after another, the boy swung and smacked the balls back against a large net. It was definitely more exciting than watching baseball on TV!

  “Well, let’s see if I still got it,” Mark said, returning from inside the building with a bat in his hands.

  “How long has it been?” Walter asked him.

  “I can’t remember, maybe ten years or more.”

  When his turn came, Mark traded places with the young boy, and raised the bat off of his shoulder. The machine hurled the first pitch, and Mark swung and missed. The ball hit the net just beyond where we were standing, and it scared me to death. Michelle leaned over and massaged my head to comfort me.

  “Just warming up,” Mark shouted out, reassuring himself.

  The machine spit out another ball, and Mark hit it on a line drive to the back of the net.

  “There we go—double off the left field wall,” Mark said proudly.

  “Good swing, but I think that would have been foul,” Walter said, taking a lighter from his sweatshirt pocket and lighting a cigarette.

  “See what I grew up with, Michelle?” Mark said, quickly looking back at us before the next pitch came. “Dad, you’re crazy—that was easily fair.”

  Michelle leaned over to Walter and whispered, “Just let him hit, Walter.”

  Walter kept quiet the rest of the time, until Mark finished and walked through the gate to rejoin us.

  “Any calluses?” he asked, looking at Mark’s hands.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “You looked good in there.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “For an old-timer.”

  Mark shook his head and grinned, and then began wheeling his father back to the car.

  33

  The final stages of life for a resident and his family can be like riding a roller coaster without being able to see where the tracks lead. The ups and downs, and twists and turns can be frightening and difficult to navigate. Walter’s journey was no different.

  He began chemotherapy for his cancer, and while the doctors were hopeful that he had the strength to withstand the treatments, it turned out that he didn’t have the stamina or the will to continue.

  As he told Mark and Michelle during a visit after one of his treatments, “I just don’t have the energy for a fight I know I’ll eventually lose. If it’s my time, I’m ready to go.”

  For a while after his decision, Walter was able to continue his normal routine at SunRidge with the help of the caregivers, and frequent visits from Mark and Michelle. But it soon became clear that Walter was steadily declining, and that a better option for him would be hospice care. Walter was opposed to the idea, not wanting to adjust to new people being around him. After a long conversation with Jane, Mark and Michelle decided to take him into their home, so that he could live out his final days. Once he got settled, they would hire a hospice nurse to visit every couple of days to keep Walter comfortable. Mark and Michelle asked the Petersons if I could join them until Walter passed, and they agreed.

  It was strange to be away from SunRidge. Except for the night I spent at Theresa’s house—after Walter was abused—it’s where I had been for a long time. Luckily, dogs easily adapt to new environments, and it didn’t take me long to get used to living at Mark and Michelle’s suburban home.

  Michelle pampered me like a new mother, keeping me busy with a steady stream of chewbones and toys, and brushed my coat regularly. Each morning she took me jogging with her, and I made friends with other dogs along our route. During the day she worked from home, which allowed her to check on Walter and me often. When Mark came home from work, he would visit with Walter, and then toss the ball to me in the backyard, or wrestle with me on the living room floor. After dinner we would all gather around Walter’s bed in a room set up for him, and watch old movies and sports.

  Michelle set my bed beside Walter’s on a small riser, so it was easier for him to be close to me. With Walter becoming more fragile, she felt it was best for him to have a space separate from me. />
  There was only one part of the living arrangement that was not totally agreeable. Mark and Michelle had two cats—Midas and Moses. The first few days after I arrived, they both cautiously circled around me, like a prison guard would with an inmate. I tried to engage them a few times, but it was beyond them to interact with a lowly dog like me. They sure are arrogant critters.

  As the days wore on, Walter spent more and more time sleeping, and for the most part, his waking hours were foggy and filled with pain. I did my best to comfort him, even though at times, I wasn’t sure he knew I was there.

  In the rare moments Walter was lucid though, he would return to his old self.

  One night, Mark and Michelle were gathered around Walter’s bed, watching TV, and waiting for the President to make his State of the Union speech. I was far more interested in something else—a large bowl of popcorn sitting on Mark’s lap. When he noticed my intense gaze, he tossed a few pieces of popcorn on the ground, which I quickly scrambled for. Just as I looked back up at him for more, I heard Walter blurt out, “Why the hell do they have to do that?”

  “Do what, Dad?” Mark asked him.

  “Why does this idiot need to tell us what the President’s going to say before he says it?” Walter asked, irritated. “Can’t we wait five minutes to hear it in his speech?”

  “I like it,” Michelle responded, looking up from a stack of papers on her lap. “It gives me a quick gist of everything, so I don’t have to watch the whole, long boring thing.”

  “It’s a different world, Dad” Mark offered, as he got up to bring the empty popcorn bowl to the kitchen.

  “Well, it may be different,” Walter replied, “but it sure as hell ain’t better.”

  In a short period of time, Walter became less and less responsive to everything around him. Physically, he was still beside me every morning when I woke, but his eyes were dim, and his spirit was gone.

  I suspect Walter was at the point where he wished he were an old dog, and someone would prick him with a needle to end his pain and suffering. But human life takes its course on its own terms.

  The strain of caring for Walter and watching him decline was getting to both Mark and Michelle. Many times throughout my stay, I would find them outside of Walter’s room looking depleted and depressed. I comforted them like I did with the residents at SunRidge, with good cheer and a coat to cry on.

  On a rainy afternoon, Walter’s primary physician, Dr. Felman, stopped by to see him. Although he perked up more than he had in several days, before the doctor left I overheard him tell Mark that Walter would more than likely pass away within twenty-four hours.

  The following day, Mark stayed home from work, and he and Michelle held a vigil at Walter’s bedside. The mood was solemn, but Mark shared old family stories that with the passage of time had become more sweet than bitter. They helped to fill the difficult passing moments, until the inevitable came.

  Hearing is the last sense people lose when they’re dying. Selfishly, as a dog without words, I’ve always wished it could be touch. If it were, Walter would have felt the warmth of me lying beside him, with my head tucked inside of his arm. And he would have felt Mark and Michelle, on opposite sides of the bed, holding each of his hands. And he would have felt the tears falling from Mark’s cheeks onto his arm.

  But, as it was, the last thing Walter heard, before he left this world, was his son saying, “Dad, I love you.”

  Hours later, Walter’s body was picked up and taken to be cremated, as he had requested. There was an empty feeling in the house with him gone. Michelle brought my bed from Walter’s room into the living room, where I listened to her and Mark begin planning a small gathering to remember Walter’s life.

  The next morning, Michelle called Jane to tell her about Walter’s passing, and to let her know she would be bringing me back to SunRidge that afternoon.

  As I sat and watched Michelle gather up my things for our departure later that day, there was a part of me that wanted to stay and become the family dog I had always hoped to be. At the same time, I knew in my heart that helping the residents at SunRidge was my life’s purpose. I had almost given up hope that I would ever find my place in the world, with all of the false starts I had before the Peterson’s adopted me. I wanted each of them to work out, but for one reason or another they hadn’t. I guess sometimes desire and destiny take different paths in life. And in my case, I’m glad they did.

  When I walked through the front entrance of SunRidge, Veronica was the first person to greet me.

  “Wrigley’s back!” she burst out with joy before coming around the front desk, getting down on her knees, and petting and hugging me.

  Hearing Veronica’s excitement, Jane and Theresa came out of the front office. They hugged Mark and Michelle goodbye, and then enthusiastically welcomed me back.

  When everything returned to normal, I left the reception area to go visit with the residents. Just as when I had returned from my snake bite, the old saying—absence makes the heart grow fonder—proved true. I relished all of their attention, and returned the favor with wags and sniffs and licks.

  Bee was the happiest to see me. Her room was all set up now, and it included a dog bed, and a clear plastic jar filled with treats on the kitchen counter. Once I got comfortable beside her, she slowly stroked my coat, and read aloud to me the last part of a book she was reading, which was narrated by a dog.

  It went like this… Being old isn’t easy. But at the end of our journey there is still laughter, kindness, forgiveness, friendship, love, and if you’re lucky, a dog to help with all that ails you.

  Afterward

  Three months after Walter died, as I was coming back from Bee’s room to the front office, I saw Mark and Michelle standing in the reception area. They were both formally dressed. Mark was wearing a black tuxedo, and Michelle had on a long white gown with flowers in her hair.

  When they spotted me coming their way, Mark patted his hand against his thigh for me to come quicker. In a flash, I was at their feet.

  “Hey, boy! How’s the best dog I know doing?” Mark asked, trying to pet me without getting slobber or hair on himself.

  “We missed you, Wrigley,” Michelle said with a big smile.

  I wagged and wiggled and looked up at them with affection.

  “Guess what, Wrigley?” Mark asked me, with excitement in his voice. “We’re getting married today, and you’re coming with us!”

  “You wanna go?” Michelle asked me.

  Where? When? Now?

  “You can be our mutt of honor,” Mark said, laughing.

  The two of them went into the front office, and chatted with Jane and Theresa for a few minutes before clipping Walter’s leash to my collar, and leading me out to their car.

  With Mark in the driver’s seat and Michelle in the passenger seat, I moved up from the back seat, and put my front paws on the center console between them.

  “Honey, is that okay?” Mark asked Michelle. “Is he going to get hair all over your gown?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll have my Mom clean it once we get there.”

  “I love that you’re so easy going,” Mark replied, taking her hand. “It’s one of a thousand reasons why I knew I had to marry you.”

  “You’ll have to share the other nine-hundred ninety-nine with me on our honeymoon,” Michelle remarked.

  “I will,” Mark replied. “And don’t worry, I won’t make you give me a single reason why you’re crazy enough to marry a guy like me from a family like mine.”

  “I can name three right now,” Michelle quickly responded. “You make me laugh, you make me think, and you make me feel.”

  Mark leaned over and gave Michelle a kiss. She smiled and glowed.

  Before long we pulled up to a beautiful, old stone building. There was a crowd of people milling around outside. Mark and Michelle got out of the car, greeted a few friends, and then Mark handed my leash off to a young boy named Scott.

  “Let’s go, buddy,�
�� Scott said to me, as I stood intently watching Mark and Michelle walk away. “We’re going to take a nice long walk, and then we’ll meet up with them after they get married.”

  He led me to a nearby trail, which we hiked up, traversing a twisting path, until we reached the top. He sat down on a wooden bench, and I hopped up to join him.

  “Not a bad way to kill some time,” he said, scanning the view. “It sure is quiet up here.”

  I looked around, and took a few whiffs of the air. When I turned back to Scott, his eyes were closed, and he was breathing in and out slowly. I jumped off the bench, and found a spot on the ground to stretch out. I rested until Scott opened his eyes again, stared at his watch, and told me it was time to go.

  We took a less windy route back down the hill, which brought us to the bottom quickly. When the trail ended, I looked up and saw people talking and laughing, beginning to pour out of the building. Once we got closer, Mark spotted us, and came our way.

  “We did it, Wrigley!” he said, beaming with joy and leaning down to scruff my head. “Michelle and I are married!”

  When Mark turned away to accept congratulations from a group of people, Scott and I walked around. He bumped into somebody he recognized and made small talk, while I fixated on the women and men wearing black bowties, who were walking around with trays of food.

  After the crowd had socialized for a while, Mark stood beside Michelle, and tapped a spoon against a glass to get everyone’s attention.

  Scott grabbed an empty chair on the lawn, and I laid down in front of him.

  Mark started his speech by thanking everyone for sharing the special day with him and Michelle, and then told sweet and funny stories about the long journey the two of them had taken to become husband and wife.

  While he continued to talk, my eyes were getting tired. Just as I was about to drift off, I heard my name and perked up.

  “Wrigley . . . I can’t forget to mention Wrigley. He’s the dog here some of you might have noticed. For those of you who don’t already know the story, this dog saved my father’s life and befriended him at SunRidge, where my Dad spent the last part of his life. If you get a chance, go by and give Wrigley a pet or two. He’ll love you back ten-fold. Also, I want everyone to know that I found out on Monday that a portion of my Dad’s money, which was defrauded in a Ponzi scheme, has been recovered. Michelle and I will be making a large donation to the shelter Wrigley came from in Walter’s memory.”