Full of Sheep

It would appear that my life revolves around Otto. He touches my heart every time he shoves his favorite toy "Moo" into my rear end...his attempt to be playful or his hint that I am resembling a Moo myself in the rear...So much of my day is consumed thinking about his needs and his happiness that sometimes it occurs to me that he is no longer just a dog, he is a mystical being that is somehow dictating the way that I live, where I go, whom I speak to and what I speak about.

Take for example my mother who passed away in October. I was estranged from her and her second husband for years and I was comfortable with that. When I learned that she was in the final stages of her life in the hospice ward my husband became insistent that I call her. He wouldn't let up. I thought about it and put my guilt meter on fast forward to the "what if's" and agreed that possibly it might be better to drop the dime then not...so with a sweaty hand and a shot of scotch I called her room. The endless ringing was enough to make me terminal ill. She answered on about the 12th ring with a voice I knew I would never hear again. I identified myself and immediately told her how sorry I was that she was so sick. I could hear her trying to reposition herself to sit up.....silence and heavy breathing...and I wished I had made the shot a large double.

....and then in a fairly clear but heavy voice she said, "Tell me about the dog." I said, "Mom, his name is Otto, he an Anatolian Shepherd Dog from Turkey. He is bred for livestock protection and guardianship. He looks just like Mort." (Mother adored Mort. He was a huge great dane/shepherd mix dog that found us in Connecticut when I was about 16 years old. I found an old picture of Mort and Shotzie, our German Shepherd.

33 years ago, Mort greeted my first official "date" at the door by ripping his shirt at the neck ....which was subsequently the end of the date and soon the end of Mort.)

Fast forward to Ottoland...

I said to mother, "Otto is very protective and watches over me like I am his flock " and with that my mother said " That's because he knows you are full of sheep." We both laughed for the first time in so many years and through her rattle I heard her say, "Call means the world to me."

Click...

I don't think the whole conversation lasted more then a minute yet as corny as it sounds it covered a lifetime for both of us.