Moments

A final consultation with the surgeon today - rather felt like a final roll of the dice in a game I didn't know I was playing. I understand that he has to give you the worst case, I understand that my benchmark is high, and I am grateful that he in turn understands where I want to be, but still it left me questioning my desire to rage, my apparent need to fight for such a bright light.

But then I took an elderly pooch for a walk on moors that are afire with the glory of the heather, on a day when the air was so clear it felt sharp, the sort of day that put the Great into the outdoors. Getting in even the low van is hard for her now, any sort of incline grinds us to a crawl, and heartbreakingly she stumbles and falls where once she swaggered and stalked. But, and it's the but that means everything....
....she sings in the back when she knows where we're heading. She positively pounces from the van, she still believes that all the creatures of the Dales tremble to hear her howl. Life is a collection of moments, and these, if we can but see them, are the ones that count.

I've learnt to enjoy the slower pace, to let her catch up in her own time, to glance over my shoulder and know she's making her own way. It suited me well today lost in my thoughts. Even after a short while there's the familiar stabbing pain in my ankle, it's like a shade come to remind me of what could be and what shouldn't be. I know this surgery represents my best chance to banish this, but I also know it will be another six months lost.

Feet follow familiar footsteps and neither Pooch or I need to think about where we wander. Lost in my thoughts I don't notice that the gradient has changed, that the angle has eased, that the leader is now led. I look up to see my favourite companion giving me the over the shoulder look, do I not know the game is afoot?

I went home and signed the consent forms.
We all howl in our own ways.