A Dog's Whispers

As rotund as Manny is, he cannot fill the empty space left by Leo. I say that not to disparage in any way Manny's personality or metaphysical presence; his stout frame simply does not fill the space on the landing where Leo liked to park himself and keep an eye on just about everything.

Let's face it, Manny cannot see, so his choice of the landing for a resting spot last night had little to do with keeping watch. He's still a bit wary of the stairs, so his choice of the landing clearly had nothing to do with physical comfort. The spot on the landing is, for all of us, hallowed ground, and I believe Manny chose it solely so he could feel close to his best buddy, the guy who led him through life even when his eyes were working.

Manny is adjusting slowly to all his losses. We had hoped, initially, that his blindness was psychosomatic -- if he couldn't see Leo, he just wouldn't see anything -- but as he shows small signs of returning to "himself," he shows no signs of sight. He will blink occasionally when we wave our hands in front of his eyes, but for the most part he doesn't react. He walks tentatively, lifting his front leg higher (sometimes several times) as he approaches what he anticipates to be a step up. He is constantly bumping into things face on, and has taken a few embarrassing dives into the bushes off the front stoop.

But his tail wags more vigorously each day, and his criminal mind has once again begun to function at a high level. My daughters and I returned last night from dinner to find the remains of a bag of veggie chips strewn across the pantry floor. We applauded his naughtiness, though we were puzzled at his choice of such a sensible snack. Maybe he's taking his diet seriously. Upstairs, my daughter proudly held up the remains of two pairs of underpants, which Manny had meticulously de-crotched. Again, we applauded, thrilled that our Manny appeared to be returning to normal.

June has had a somewhat auspicious beginning, at least on the Manny front. Maybe he can sniff Leo's ashes, which I went to retrieve on June 1st, and which now sit, in an urn in a box in a velvet bag, in the laundry room. I still cannot bring myself to open the package; the mere weight of it sent me into a fit of hysterics outside the veterinary hospital.

But Manny seems to be taking some comfort from Leo's return to the house, in whatever form. His teacher, his mentor, his best bud, his partner in crime is back, and for that I am grateful.