On Being Consistent

I lost my focus. Like every athlete, musician, bodybuilder or businessperson in branding, I wasn’t consistent. I faltered. I lost something when I put Holly down. By the time I put this on my website, it will be two full weeks since I – we — made that decision.

I had only begun the process of publishing narrative essays of reaching the mid-century mark, it’s problems and joys while living in the California low desert. Instead, I let “my girl” go. I knew it was time. We knew. She was limping. If she fell, she didn’t have the strength to be vertical again. The tree trunk, stocky legs that Staffordshire Terriers are known were wasting to pretzel sticks. Once assisted and propped up into a standing position, she looked afraid to move as if one step would lead her back to the floor. But she cuddled always. She was unwavering in that act.

It’s hard to be left behind. It’s as if a part of me was removed. Having been privileged to work for myself, she was by my side except when I was at the gym, at a meeting or out to dinner and a movie. My “big girl’ was always there. When Nick came along, he grew to accept her as always being there as well. She was reliable in love and devotion. We could do no wrong except tell her, “Down!” when someone dropped in to say hello. She was dependable in that she practically knocked anyone to the floor to dole out welcoming canine kisses.

Getting older is not about an ending, but more of a beginning. The things I coveted as a younger man isn’t bringing what I want or need anymore. I’m not sure they ever did but they weren’t about love. It’s important that Holly taught me that the love I give should always be available and without reservation. She gave so much, always unwavering and consistent.

RIP, my Holly.

 

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