by David Kersey
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The examination table was too cold. I had to get down but didn't know how far I would have to fall. I took a chance and jumped. I bumped my chin on the floor but it didn't hurt much probably because I already had a monumental headache.
The vet had been gentle with me. I felt like I was in good hands. Unfortunately I overheard what he said to John on the telephone. What would my life be like from here on out?
I kept blinking my eyes but it was more or less the same scene either way, so I just shut my eyes and remembered the meadow. I could see it. In my mind I moved my eyes to the pond and I saw Ferdinand, half in, half out. I couldn't see, but my memory could. For that I was grateful. The memory pictures faded in and out. They were not perfect because my memory was moving faster than I wanted. I saw Cassie's face but she was not a fixed image. She was blurring in and out. I saw John and saw his hands on my snout but there was no feeling of his hands. If this was going to be my future, I must work out a way for my memory to move at the same rate as my brain.
The thought occurred to me that I would have to live my life in reverse. Memories would be my sight. I took comfort knowing that even though I couldn't see there would be good times. I would be aware of my environs and happenings. I could still laugh and even play. And I wouldn’t languish in self-pity nor let others take pity on me. No, I would learn new skills that didn’t require sight. I could win this battle. I will be an overcomer rather than an undergoer. The pep talk to myself helped, but I knew there would be hard times coming my way.
All because of those ants. I had no idea what had happened since I blacked out. I needed to get home.
"Hey, old boy." I could smell him. And, oh my, I could smell Cassie. His hands surrounded my snout and I moved close to him. I felt Cassie rubbing my legs with her side. This should be a moment of joy and happiness, and it was, but I couldn't help but break down and cry. Loudly. What a powerful emotion love is. To cry with joy is love.
Then something happened that hadn't been done since way back when. John hooked a leash to my collar. "We're going home, old boy."
On the ride home John's cell rang, and all he said was one word. "Ok."