If you'd ever suggested that I should get a dog for the good of my health, I'd have scoffed. Of course, I'd never had one, so what did I know? Nevertheless, I had zero interest in getting a dog, for health reasons or any other.
But fate intervened.
My son had found his hands full with a traumatized rescued three-legged dog. He couldn't meet her needs for reassurance and constant companionship.
Cleo was a sweet dog, who'd been injured after either getting loose or being dumped somewhere. She'd had to have her broken leg amputated by the Humane Society. Cleo had already lost her family once. We couldn't make her go through that again.
So we got a dog.
At the time I had a bad knee, and could hardly walk so she didn't get any exercise to speak of for her first few weeks with us. Eventually I was able to hobble out into the backyard and toss sticks for her to chase, so she got some running in. But I couldn't take her for a tour around the neighborhood because walking on pavement was just too painful for me.
After a month of this, we tried the pavement. I only went as far as the first Stop sign, which made for about a two-minute walk. I made it to the Stop sign, and limped back home, in pain but victorious.
I'd been going to a chiropractor for my knee, and was seeing some improvement. She encouraged me to keep on walking Cleo a short distance each day as physical therapy. Very gradually, I increased our distance from one Stop sign to halfway to the next one, then dragging back home and off my feet.
As the weeks and months went by, we were eventually able to go all the way around the block. Now we were moving for about 10 minutes per trip, and the pain, both during and afterward, was far less than it had been.
That was about three years ago. We've been walking like pros for a long time now. We go to the park and meander, then head for home, without limping or repercussions. A half an hour walk or more is nothing to Cleo and has become a mere nothing for me as well.
Had it not been for Cleo and her need for exercise, I know that I would have taken the easy way out that first winter. It was cold. It was windy. I was crippled. Nobody would have faulted me if I'd chosen to stay curled up. But my ability to walk would have been seriously curtailed and would have taken much longer to recover.
Fortunately, I didn't want to disappoint the dog. She was so bright-eyed and expectant at 3 p.m. every day. She'd figured out that this was about the time we usually went out, before I realized it. Every move I made, she watched vigilantly, ready to leap up and wait for her leash.
How do you say no to that eager face? I couldn't. So I'd struggle out of my chair, fumble my way into my boots, and lumber out the door, with a three-legged dog dancing ahead of me, leading the way.
I'd have to say that at no time did I want to get up and get ready to go out the door on a snowy afternoon. And yet, once we were outside, I was always glad we'd made a break for it. Her exuberance was contagious, and her need to get out enabled me to get outside, to enjoy the stillness, to exercise my messed-up knee and feel a part of the world once more.
And the world seemed happy to greet me as well. I've lived in my neighborhood for 21 years, and while I used to know some families who also had little kids, they had all long ago moved away. I used to go for walks in the subdivision, and almost never saw anyone who said Hello.
Cleo changed all that. She has plenty of friends around here, and they all speak to me. She's kind of a celebrity.
Sometimes we'll stand and have a conversation, often about Cleo and how brave she is facing life on only three legs. Sometimes we talk about ourselves. Waving and saying Hi to our neighbors increases a sense of wellbeing and belonging that has been absent for some time.
I guess I needed a dog after all.
Visit Jody's website at http://www.ncubator.ca and http://ncubator.ca/blogger