THE OLD MAN AND HIS OLD DOG

He had waited patiently in the lobby of Doc's office for almost an hour when he finally heard the words, "Okay, your turn, Mr. Caskey."  He was practically invisible, sitting in the corner with his tiny white dog.  I had noticed them and wondered what was wrong with his canine companion.  Slowly and a bit unsteadily, he arose from the chair while simultaneously trying to manage his cane and leash.  You could sense that this old man and his little dog meant everything to each other.  These two old-aged beings had found in each other perfect companionship.  It was unconditional love in its finest display.  Finally, one of Doc's assistants carried the dog into the exam room.  Mr. Caskey righted himself as best he could while painstakingly following them into the room.

After bidding each other the usual 'hello's and how are you's,' it didn't take long to hear the whole story unravel.  Doc patiently reviewed with Mr. Caskey the options he had to treat the dog's illness. Apparently, the thirteen-year-old Maltese had a mouthful of abscessed teeth that needed to be pulled. Mr. Caskey wanted assurances that his dog would survive the surgery to remove the teeth.  Doc responded that he couldn't promise anything other than he would do the best he could; however, the dog was getting 'up there' in age, and sometimes things happen under anesthesia.  Mr. Caskey had been faced with this dilemma for the past several weeks.  Finally, Doc told him the dog was suffering and needed his teeth removed.  You could see the shift in the man's thinking when the word 'suffering' was introduced.  He told Doc that he would have the dog there on the assigned day of surgery.

Mr. Caskey walked slowly out of the exam room with his dog.  He walked even slower than when he entered, and his back slumped.  He sat by me again and explained that his back and his heart had him 'under the weather' for a while and that he had not been caring for his dog very well.  I shared with him that I had the pleasure of having two Maltese dogs that lived until old age.  "And as a matter of fact," I told him, "They both had surgery for abscessed teeth when they were older and survived it just fine.  They lived a few more years after the surgery and were pain-free."  While this wasn't a complete lie, it was a lie, nevertheless.  I figured God forgave me on the spot.

I had a few tears as I made my way into the exam room with my dog.  We were there just for a routine visit and some shots.  When Doc saw that I had tears in my eyes, he confessed that he was almost in tears himself.  Doc is a big, John Wayne-type guy who is a bit past retirement.  He's a horse veterinarian, so you wouldn't think little old dogs and elderly men would get to him.  It does.  Doc explained that the old man had been so afraid of losing the dog and had waited so long that the dog might die if the teeth weren't removed soon.  We pondered over the injustice of pain that dogs and people have to endure, especially the elderly and children. 

I spontaneously cried out a suggestion for Doc. "Hey," I offered, "Why don't you have a younger, healthier Maltese on standby as a substitute in case his dog doesn't make it?"  While we all got a chuckle out of the possibilities of such an act, I doubt that somewhere in the cages in the back of Doc's building, a cute little Maltese will be waiting.  But you really can't ever replace the people and animals you loved and lost.  You just learn to carry on.

I am counting on the old man and his old dog to be around for a few more years, and when it's time to go, they'll be walking in heaven together...without a cane and with a complete set of teeth.

(11-3-2000)