Our wisest family members

Dogs are not given enough credit in our society for what vital roles they play in a family. After Sam died and we were preparing to leave the hospital my mom asked Mark and me if we wanted the dogs to be at our house when we got home or if we would rather my parents keep them a day or two longer. Without even consulting each other we both instantly responded to have them at the house.

I can't imagine if we had walked into the house and Joey and Oliver hadn't been there to greet us. Even with Joey and Oliver the house seemed unnaturally quiet. I had never known Sam outside of my womb but I had this expectation that returning home would mean a house filled with the noises of a crying baby, his swing, toys, laughter, and lullabies. Walking into the house I felt like I was hit by a cement truck as I once again had to face another reminder that Sam was gone.

 Joey and Oliver saved me from sinking into that dark lonely place when I walked into the house. They kept my house from becoming a place of complete pain and emptiness. As usual we were greeted by their wiggly butts sashaying around as they retrieved the nearest shoe, which I am pretty certain they believe must be our favorite toys since we always take those with us when we all play outside. And for them playing outside is life's greatest joy, or at least a close second to cheese.

Since arriving home Joey and Oliver have dutifully remained at Mark's and my side. They seem to always know when to be with us, when to give us space, when to help us laugh and when to allow us time to cry. Joey goes to bed with me every night. She curls up right next to me against my legs. I can't stand to be alone at night anymore and this allows Mark the space to unwind in the evenings without having to acclimate to my early bedtime. 
Whenever I begin to cry I can expect Oliver to fly to my side and lean against my legs. I think this is his way of hugging me. He keeps his head dipped down and stays very still. When I finish crying he'll lick my hand or cheek and return to whatever toy he had been playing with. Once I was crying in the bathroom with the door shut and I heard this loud thud against the door. I pushed the door open and Ollie rushed in to assume his place against my legs. He made eye contact with me then; I think to remind me that he cannot successfully complete his duty if I close him out.

It is nice to have Oliver to sit with me when I cry. I know he and Joey don't know why I am sad or understand why Mark and I have changed, but they accept it and they accept their role to help us cope with our sadness.

Even when we are feeling so sad we can't imagine ever laughing again Joey and Oliver are able to find a way to remind us that laughter is okay. I remember one of the first days we were home from the hospital we took the dogs down to play in the baseball fields by the river.

It was a cold, cloudy morning and the grass was covered in dew. I was leaning against Mark and frankly feeling sorry for myself and sorry for Mark. Life just seemed so utterly terrible. Mark launched the ball across the outfield and Joey went tearing after it with Oliver following close behind. As Joey slowed to snatch the orange ball before Oliver could get to it he forgot to use his brakes and collided with Joey at full speed. It was like a doggy explosion of legs and tails and fur as they went tumbling across the field and then jumped to their feet with giant bewildered smiles on their faces. Mark and I burst into laughter. 

I think that was the first moment I let myself feel any pleasure. I think I was able to laugh in that moment so early after Sam's death because I knew that with Joey, Oliver and Mark it was okay to laugh and that the laughter didn't diminish my grief for Sam. Joey and Oliver are showing me how to just experience each moment and to not make plans or think to much about the future or the past. This lesson is what gets me out of bed and allows me to face the day, whatever it may hold.