Mike radiated heat from every part of his body. Sometimes it was the heat he absorbed when he lay in the summer sun at the front of our house. It could be 90 degrees in the shade but Mike would sit in the sun, half close his eyes, and soak up the rays like a beach bum in California. To stroke his warm head after one of these sun sessions would make my senses tingle. So warm, so soft.
The surprising heat source on Mike was lower down on his big yellow body: those padded feet. His paws always felt a few degrees hotter than any other place…. strangely so. You would think the blood flow and contact with the ground would leave these a bit cooler. But when he lay down and lifted a paw for me to hold…which was often…I could not believe the energy emitted by those thick pads, which had been worn smooth from all the contact with brick paths, city sidewalks and the zippers of gravel he toured up and back on our walks through the Congressional Cemetery.
Sometimes at night, when Aggie would allow him, he stretched out the length of the bed, This was a very long dog. Sometimes his head was at the top, sometimes at the bottom. He let me pull him in close and I absorbed the heat from his head and his back and his hips. Maybe we were exchanging energy at such times, but I suspect this was a one-way gift, from Mike to me.
So it was particularly alarming that morning when Mike was uncomfortable, and could not settle where he had lowered his big body on our tile floor, shifting. Karen ran her hand down his front leg to feel his toes. Her eyes moistened. “His paws are cold. Stew!” I checked his gums, which were graying. They did not refill with oxygen when I pressed them. I called the veterinarian an appointment at 4pm that day. I kissed Karen goodbye so she could get to work and then I sat down on the floor to visit with Mike for a while longer. A beautify Indian blanket was tucked under his heavy head. Mike died there about a half hour later after I went upstairs to take a shower.
I love this photo, too! So, sweet! Such pals.
Mike radiated heat from every part of his body. Sometimes it was the heat he absorbed when he lay in the summer sun at the front of our house. It could be 90 degrees in the shade but Mike would sit in the sun, half close his eyes, and soak up the rays like a beach bum in California. To stroke his warm head after one of these sun sessions would make my senses tingle. So warm, so soft.
The surprising heat source on Mike was lower down on his big yellow body: those padded feet. His paws always felt a few degrees hotter than any other place…. strangely so. You would think the blood flow and contact with the ground would leave these a bit cooler. But when he lay down and lifted a paw for me to hold…which was often…I could not believe the energy emitted by those thick pads, which had been worn smooth from all the contact with brick paths, city sidewalks and the zippers of gravel he toured up and back on our walks through the Congressional Cemetery.
Sometimes at night, when Aggie would allow him, he stretched out the length of the bed, This was a very long dog. Sometimes his head was at the top, sometimes at the bottom. He let me pull him in close and I absorbed the heat from his head and his back and his hips. Maybe we were exchanging energy at such times, but I suspect this was a one-way gift, from Mike to me.
So it was particularly alarming that morning when Mike was uncomfortable, and could not settle where he had lowered his big body on our tile floor, shifting. Karen ran her hand down his front leg to feel his toes. Her eyes moistened. “His paws are cold. Stew!” I checked his gums, which were graying. They did not refill with oxygen when I pressed them. I called the veterinarian an appointment at 4pm that day. I kissed Karen goodbye so she could get to work and then I sat down on the floor to visit with Mike for a while longer. A beautify Indian blanket was tucked under his heavy head. Mike died there about a half hour later after I went upstairs to take a shower.