Pride

***Bernie about to enjoy a treat. December 21, 2008***

One of the many things I enjoyed about Bernie was the way she would walk on-leash with her head up high. Her joy just boomed, and there is no more pleasant sight nor greater feeling than the unbridled happiness of a canine. Especially when she's your own. Of course, I credited much of her obvious elation in these situations to the fact that I was by her side, us walking arm in arm, if you will. Bernie was proud to be out and seen with me, she liked to show me off to other people and other pooches. We'll call it parallel pride, as I was always proud to be with her. Paws really can prance, you know.

The past two nights I have had fantastic dreams of her. Up to that point, the many nighttime visions I'd had were of the normal sort, us just going about our life together for 15 years. Two nights ago, I dreamed that I was sleeping in a room that resembled the little sun porch off my childhood bedroom, at 107 Joy Ave. in Webster Groves, Missouri. There were two beds in there, and when I woke up in my dream my longtime friend Jim Stephens was sleeping in one bed, I in the other, and Bernie on her bed--between me and Jim. In the dream I was thrilled, for Bernie was departed then and there as she is here and now. But now she was there. I didn't jump out of bed and hug and kiss her. I simply had that really keen feeling I use to have when I'd wake up in the night in real life, and I'd sneak a peek at her sleeping. I'd always say, "Hi Bernie," then I'd go back to sleep. The last year, maybe two, I'd get up and go pet her for a moment. Years prior to those, she'd often be sleeping in my bed, and I'd pet her before I fell back asleep. The years prior to those, she was the one saying, "Hi, Dad!" via a lick to the face, at whichever hour of the night or morning she chose.

Last night, though, was the best dream yet. I'm not sure where I was, Ireland I suspect, but I was walking in a picturesque setting, on a moist gravel road, with someone but I'm not sure whom, and Bernie just appeared. This time, we were both visibly thrilled. I pet her enthusiastically--her fur was extra soft--and her big spotted tongue dangled uncontrollably out the side of her mouth. The fur on her paws was white--like a black dog with white paws--but I didn't ask her about that. It didn't matter, Bernie was back with me.

Bernie is extra proud of me today. Her dad got a rabies vaccination, just like Bernie used to get! He just sat there and took it, no groans, spasms, or complaints, as cooperative as Bernie was in those moments. I bet she was licking my face to comfort me, as I used to pet her fur when she bravely accepted her vaccinations. Dad also got a typhoid, yellow fever, tetanus, and hepatitis A vaccination. You see, Bernie gets to walk Brazil and the Amazon in 35 days, with me!