Life and Love

AJ says hello to his new buddy.

I tend to have revelations when bad things happen. Lots of times it's: "We need to start going to church."

A couple of nights before Halloween, after I had put T Junior to bed, Mr. T and I had a scary moment with one of our dogs.

He passed out and then his heart stopped.

AJ, our 5-year-old boxer, is not just any dog. He could possibly be the most loving dog in the whole world. He just wants to love. That's all he wants to do. Well, that and play Jolly Ball in the back yard. Is that too much to ask?

We were in the living room when AJ collapsed. We fell to our knees and tried to revive him. He was still. After a sobbing Mr. T stopped me from pounding AJ's chest and from trying to breathe into his nose, we just looked at each other, our limbs heavy, our shoulders slumped there on the floor in the living room. I'm sure my face mirrored Mr. T's: pure heartache. But, as Mr. T reached for me, I had a single thought: love.

I love my husband so much. I wished at that moment I could take away the sadness that I saw in his face. The panic, the fear, the sorrow. I wished I could take it all away from him because I love him and want him to be happy all the time (no matter what he may think sometimes). I feel this way about T Junior, too, and it's actually a really horrible feeling. Because there's no way to do this. Both my guys are going to be let down, hurt, saddened and other awful things that go along with living.

As Mr. T and I clung to each other, nearly a minute after AJ's collapse, he moved. He came back to us. And I think I know why.

Love.