Oogy_ The Dog Only a Family Could Love - Larry Levin [61]
Allowing Oogy the autonomy to wander off leash has proved to be beneficial to his sense of himself as well as to our relationship. He wanders, explores, and sniffs at things I cannot see. He will dawdle along, sheer strength and ferocity gone gentle, smelling flowers, meandering without a care under the canopy of trees and amid the tang of honeysuckle. At the park, he is very independent, while at home, he seems always to need to be around one of us.
Oogy has appreciated the confidence shown in him to be off leash and on his own. He revels in the opportunity to interact with other dogs. By letting Oogy run free and mingle, and allowing him to wander in the stillness of the woods, where the only sounds are the creek and the occasional bird, the thrumming of a frog like some bass Jew’s harp, the whine of insects, we have been able to step out of and beyond the routine of our lives and in so doing have grown closer together. The trust I have placed in him and the independence he experiences have confirmed that, as with so many things, I was very, very wrong: He will never leave me.
I have told Jennifer and the boys that after I die, this is where I want my memorial service held and my ashes scattered. It is a scene of great peacefulness, happiness, and love. I have asked that Oogy’s ashes accompany mine. Just the other day, when I told the boys, Noah asked if instead I wanted to be buried next to our old pets just to the left of the front door. “I don’t know if we’ll own our house then,” I said. “And anyway,” I added, “with Oogy, it’s different. He and I are connected on a different plane.”
They said that they understood.
CHAPTER 10
The Rescuer
the boys’ impending departure for college will bring both big and small changes. The fundamentals of our lives will have been altered. My daily schedule now that I will not have to awaken and make the boys breakfast, the grocery list, the laundry demands, what Jennifer and I will do with the time we are not spending at games and wrestling matches each week and on weekends, all represent change. Everything will become different, some in ways I can envision and others in ways that will surprise and, no doubt, tug at me.
Although both Dan and Noah were accepted into several of the same colleges, in the end they made choices that took them thousands of miles apart. Noah received an academic scholarship to a local, highly rated college, which also has a strong lacrosse program; he will play on the team, and major in business and minor in coaching so he can coach lacrosse upon graduation. Dan decided that he wanted a different cultural experience than offered by the East Coast, and went out west. His sense of challenge and adventure has led him to declare a major in criminal justice.
How the boys will deal with the separation — from Oogy and from each other — remains to be seen.
As for me, since I will have a lot more free time than I have had in the past eighteen years (none, for the most part), I recently began the process to have Oogy certified so that he can become a therapy dog. My hope is that he will be licensed as a companion dog for hospitalized children and wounded veterans. Beyond the ordinary benefits that companion dogs provide, it makes sense to me that young people in the midst of personal struggle — battling pain, depression, and anxiety and daunted by the future before them, what they will look like, how people will react to what they look like — will be encouraged by and take some inspiration from Oogy. They will see in front of them living proof that the most agonizing and horrific events can be overcome without any lasting damage to the spirit, without harm to the ability to give and receive love. I believe that Oogy will be able to help those in need to understand that scarring, disfigurement, and trauma, whether physical or emotional, do not have to define who they are. That what is on the inside counts more than what is on the outside. That no matter what has been inflicted