Feeling Thankful

We return to the West-coast coming Friday. There is a lot I have to look forward to. Kenzo is fit enough. It will be Tilde's first visit. Viva will be there, waiting for us. And this time, also a first, we'll have our own little place to share.

Who could expect, when I looked into the eyes of that puppy almost seven years ago, the left-over of the litter because "it" was not show-material, the change Kenzo would bring. My suit-and-tie are long since exchanged for all-weather gear. The frequent-flyer card lost its mileage and a long line of dog books replaced the Michelin guide. I don't miss it.

The simple and uncomplicated joy of a dog's company, the pleasure of being able to give him a good life, was all I wished for. And maybe on Kenzo's days of old age - may they be far away -, while overlooking a valley somewhere together, I would recite our silly adventures knowing he would understand my words, wise in silence, wearing an esteemed gray muzzle with pride.

That was the simple dream I had for us, and still have. But so much more has Kenzo already given to me, than I ever gave to him. And if that isn't enough, he also brought us Viva, discovered the West-coast for her and kept her safe. He was there, to support us in our mourning over her loss. He welcomed Tilde, keeping her under his wings too, now as the senior, and is passing on to her some of the things he learned.

We return to the West-coast coming Friday. I have never looked forward to it more than I do now. I want to place Viva's ashes, and show Tilde what she loved so much about the beaches, the dunes, the wide and open heath fields, the chase for a good sunset. Kenzo will once again show the way.

I feel thankful for what they have added to my life, and thankful for Kenzo, for being the one, to send us down this path, making my life so much more worth living. Feeling thankful, for that unexpected gift of unconditional love, they brought with them.