Planning A New Life

I have been bogged down for several weeks now with planning the mundane details of home remodeling, packing up 23 years of life in Texas and coordinating my new apartment in Chicago. But now that much of my work in those areas is complete, I finally had a moment to catch my breath and think about the deeper question: once I get there, how will I make sure life is different?

I ask this because I realize that geography isn't everything. While I think it will be nice not to drive by "Welcome home, George and Laura" signs on my way to work and to live in a city that has culture out the wazoo, I want my daily life to be structured so as to help me become the person I want to be. So far, that means: (1) quality time with dogs, in the form of walks; (2) quality time for me, in the form of working out regularly to lose weight and be more healthy and making an effort to reconnect with old friends and meet new ones, too; and (3) last but not least, recapturing my organized self at work, which lets me operate at my best.

I have fifteen hours of road trip in which to think about this. I am really looking forward to it!

The Valley of the Shadow

My dog Kip came into my life in September 1996. He was my first dog of my very own, and the first dog I had since my childhood pet, Lady, died when I was in eighth grade. I had intended to get a dog ever since graduating from law school two years earlier, but had never found the timing to be just right. It was only when a dear friend from law school was killed that September that I asked myself, "What are you waiting for?"

I answered that question by going to the Houston SPCA in search of a beagle. While scanning the cages without finding one, a golden-colored puppy who looked like a tiny lion without a mane caught my eye. I asked the SPCA staff to let me get to know him by playing with him in a room reserved for that purpose, but I'm pretty sure Kip had my heart even before those minutes in which he frolicked about, showing me the same mischievous spirit he has today. Nothing would have stopped me from bringing Kip home with me after that.

During our fourteen years together, Kip and I have weathered many storms--job changes, a fire at my house from which firemen rescued him and the death of my father when Kip was just a puppy. Kip went home to Illinois with me for one of my last Christmases with my Dad and I cherish the memory of them spending time together, of my Dad telling me that whenever I left his house that holiday, Kip waited in the room closest to the front door for my return. Over the years, I have shed more tears in Kip's golden fur than it would be possible to measure, and the comfort, delight and unconditional love Kip has given me add up to so much more than I have ever given him.

So tonight is hard. Tomorrow I will find out if Kip's blood test shows it is cancer or another serious illness that has caused his weight loss. He is fourteen and I think he has had a good life. I have been preparing myself for moments like this for the last few years, knowing that my time with him is finite. But nothing could have prepared me for the fear and despair I am feeling tonight. I don't want to lose my Kip, when ever it happens. He is my heart.

Update: Kip does not have cancer or any other serious illness. He has some heavy duty arthritis, but there are things we can do to help him with that. I am hugely relieved, but realize more than ever that my beloved Kip and I are operating on borrowed time. For now, though, our time together is truly sweet.