It’s not really about dogs, but also it is

My Dad almost died a little while ago. He’s 87 years old and he lives a 10 hour drive away. We are not close, we never really have been. I was not even 2 when my parents split up and my Dad moved a couple thousand miles away. He would call on my birthday and sometimes on Christmas, but those phone calls always felt like torture, I hated them, it was like talking to a complete stranger who had very little to say. It seemed like all we ever talked about was the weather, and that’s a pretty dull subject for a young kid who would rather be out playing in that weather. So most of the time I just made sure I wasn’t around when he was likely to call. The funny thing is, genetically and personality wise I seem to be the most like my father out of all of us kids, but we are strangers to each other and we both suck at small talk.

I was working when my sister called to tell me our Stepmother called and Dad was in the hospital and it was not looking good. They were doing an emergency procedure on his heart. My Stepmother is not really medically savvy and wasn’t sure what was going on, but let us know they were very concerned and he was in very critical condition. As we drove up our Stepmother had her friend call to relay the details of what was happening since she couldn’t understand it. He had a Heart Attack, his heart was stuck in Ventricular Tachycardia which was not responding to treatment, they needed to try to do an ablation. Basically the heart attack damaged his heart’s wiring system and the electrical impulses were shorting out and making it impossible for his heart to get into rhythm so they had to go in and fry those so they would stop firing. By the time we arrived he was out of surgery, but was intubated in the ICU. It was late, we found out and left as quickly as we could, but it was a long drive to a town with no faster way to get there with very limited flights in. We spoke to the ICU nurse, Dad was stable, but in critical condition, would stay intubated and sedated for the rest of the night. We talked our Stepmother into going home with my sister to get some rest, she had been at the hospital all day and of the two my Dad had been the healthier stronger one. The only way she would agree is if I promised to stay with my Dad incase something happened so he would not be alone. I went down to the car first, made sure Leo was tucked in safe and sound, moved the car so I could see him from the hospital room window. He had the whole back of the car and a soft comfy bed, I walked him, filled his water bowl. “I’ll be watching you from right there buddy” I pointed to a window and pretended maybe he understood me.

When I came back up, his ICU nurse had made up a bed for me next to Dad’s bed. She was so kind and sweet. I thanked her and made myself as comfortable as one can on a hospital sofa with thin pillows and hospital blankets. I knew I would not actually be sleeping, I am way too light of a sleeper and he was in such serious condition there were people in and out of his room at least every 5 minutes. He looked awful, just awful. His face was super puffy as his body was full of fluid from his heart not functioning properly, he had a huge bruise on his head from where he had fallen, he looked so feeble, something quite shocking for a man that always towered over me. My Dad was always a tall drink of water, it was easy to see in all of the early photos why my Mom fell for him. 6’2 tall strong blonde blue eyed American GI swept her off her feet. But he was a far cry from that as he laid in the bed with tubes and wires all over his body. He was surrounded by machines and hooked up to a dozen different IV pumps beeping and bleeping all night long. When Erin the nurse was not in the room with him, she was sitting just outside of the room watching his monitors on her screen.

I felt as awkward and uncomfortable as I always do around my Dad. I didn’t know, do I hold his hand? Try to hug him? Give him space? He has never been affectionate and it usually feels awkward and forced when we try. So I just laid next to him listening to all of the noises and trying to follow what they were doing, figuring out which beeps brought people running to the room and which ones they casually responded to. Every couple hours they had to clear out his breathing tube and it was awful! Even though he was sedated his reflexes still fought it, they had to keep his arms restrained so he couldn't yank out the tube as he desperately tried to. Things turned bad, he developed pneumonia and was spiking a fever, I could tell by the nurses responses that he was in trouble. I held his hand, he grabbed onto it hard! They put ice packs all over his body, turned on a fan and made the room as cold as possible, thankfully I had on a hoodie. The monitors going off constantly as his heart rhythm went haywire. The nurse needed his hand for a moment as she adjusted a monitor, I tried to let go to get out of her way, but he grabbed my hand despite being out “he is not about to let you go, that’s ok, keep holding on, I will work around you” she said. “He’s lucky to have such a loving family” she remarked, if only she knew 🙃.

The truth is, for most of my life I have had no idea if my Dad likes me, let alone loves me. I mean, it always felt like he was acting out of obligation around me, not like out of any real feelings. I have never once in my life felt love come through that man’s arms. Not like the way I did when my Father in Law picked me up off my feet and squeezed the day lights out of me until I couldn’t breathe, saying loudly “I love you kiddo” making sure every cell of my body felt his love. Not like the way I feel when friends and loved ones embrace me and make me feel seen and loved. With my Dad it has always just felt forced and empty. Yet, here I am holding his hand and I feel so desperately the need to try and cling him to life through not letting go of that hand. I talked to him, reassuring him as they poked and prodding him, as he fought when they cleaned his tube, my hand squished hard in his as he struggled, but I held on and so did he. The words of reassurance sounded weird coming out of my own mouth, this feels so alien, any yet, I do not want to ever let go, I don’t want this stranger of a man to stop existing.

Doctors and nurses came and went all night long, pumps constantly adjusted, monitors worried over, bags of fluids and medications refilled. Machines beeping and bleeping, the one that made people come running was almost on a constant alarm. His heart was better than when he came in, but still not able to keep a normal rhythm. But he made it through the night and my sister and stepmother arrived after getting some sleep. I left them to sit with Dad as I headed out to take care of Leo. Leo was sound asleep as I walked up to the car, such a good boy. I fed him breakfast and took him for a nice long walk around the hospital, thankfully it had such lovely walking paths and big grassy fields. I moved the car again, this time around to the main entrance, again within sight from the room, under a great big shady tree. Though it was plenty cool enough, I still felt better knowing if that changed and the sun came out he would be comfortable, he likes being cool. I had brought a big reflective shade cloth, which I then draped over the car, incase the shade moved. My sister laughed at the extent I went to ensure his comfort, especially given he was just outside the window and I could see all day what the sun and shade were doing. My goldens have trained me well all of our years of traveling and dog shows together, I am an expert shade dealer. It felt so good to walk with him, and burrow my face into his mane for a cuddle. I could feel my heart rate lower, feel his calm joy soothing my soul. I didn’t want to be gone for too long incase the doctors came in and updated us on what came next.

We spent over a week up there, staying until Dad was discharged after spending 5 days in the ICU and a few in the regular ward, having another ablation, having a defibrillator installed. I won’t go into every single detail about his medical ordeal, but I want to talk about what happened between us while I was there and how our relationship changed.

I am a dog trainer, specifically I specialize in complex cases, aggression, anxiety and so on. Mostly my job is deciphering for people what their dogs are trying to tell them with their behavior. To do this job well I have to be well versed in reading body dogs and people’s non-verbal communication and the way their thoughts and feelings affect their actions. Why do I share this? Because I used this skill SO much during that week to help everyone involved. I could read the way my Stepmother’s words did not match her body language and we bonded in all new ways when I just held her when she needed it, and did the things that made her feel taken care of without needing to be asked. But most importantly I was able to see when my Dad was low in spirits, confused about something, upset, not feeling well, needed something he didn’t want to speak up for. Even though we were such strangers, understanding body language I could see it, what he could not say. He had such a low point on the 3rd day. He was scared, he was a stoic man and didn’t say anything, but I could see it. My stepmother in her own way of wanting things to be ok and her own way of dealing with it was to pretend everything was ok, he tried to keep a brave face, but I could see through it. He was sitting up in his bed, having just eaten, he was super frustrated as the meds they were not working and they were talking about him having to stay longer when he just wanted to go home. The nurses left the room.

“Dad, what’s your favorite song?” I asked.

“What?” He looked at me confused.

“What is your favorite song, you know, music?” I repeated.

“He stopped loving her today, by George Jones” he replied confused why I asked him that.

I pulled out my laptop which I had so I could work while I was up there. I opened YouTube and searched the song. Hit play and set the laptop on the table in front of him. Tears filled his eyes as he listened. He looked at me like he had never looked at me in my whole life, in a way I had no idea until that moment I had waited a lifetime to see, like he saw me, really saw me. The song finished.

“what’s your second favorite song?” the tears spilling out of his eyes and down his cheek.

“When I fall in love, Nat King Cole”. He smiled. My sister moved to the bed next to him as his shoulders started showing the tremble of emotion, she wrapped her arm around him as I set the laptop playing the song in front of him again, saying “who knew you were such a Romantic”. He was really smiling now, the tears moving from releasing all the frustration and fear to washing joy into his heart again. “Maybe we need something more fun next, how about ABBA” he said as the song finished. He was into this now!

“ABBA! I can just picture the bell bottoms now, You got it Dad” we all laughed.

The nurses came in as ABBA played on and Dad shared tales of his wild days. “Sorry about the rave, I hope it’s ok and not disturbing anyone” I apologized. "

“Are you kidding, this is the best! You are the most amazing family and he is so lucky to have you. We love it, keep it coming.” She replied as she changed his fluid pump. They had been adjusting his meds as his heart was really acting up again and they were afraid they were going to have to do yet another procedure. And they were trying to get him stable enough for a cardiac MRI. She had shared with me earlier outside of the room that they were very concerned, it was a very low day all the way around.

The party stopped when they needed to do some treatments, needed the space and privacy for it so we headed off to grab lunch and then I took Leo to the house. We had settled into a routine where I brought him to the hospital with us in the morning and then either myself or my sister would take him to my Dad’s house where we were staying around midday so he didn’t have to stay in the car all day. But since the hospital area was so great for walking and since we were always leaving really early in the morning to get there, it was great bringing him and having him there. It was the much needed break to take him for a nice long walk in the morning, then walk him there again before taking him back to the house. I joked with my sister that probably to Leo he thought we had driven all this way just to walk in this “park” each day. He loved it! As we were walking out of the room saying goodbye to Dad, he said “I love you” and in a way that was unlike any other time I had ever heard it, like it had the weight behind it now instead of being an obligatory response. I smiled and said it back, fairly certain I too was saying it in a brand new way, his eyes looking at me, truly at me.

The next day blew my socks off. My sister and I arrived early, our Stepmother having an errand to run. My brother had arrived the night before so now he was driving her instead of me or my sister as we had done all weekend. We walked in and said good morning. I asked him how he slept, and he said “I didn’t”. I asked what if he needed something, was he not feeling well and he replied “No, I didn’t sleep. I spent the entire night reliving my whole life and every choice I have ever made. I am so sorry.” I will keep the rest of his words for myself, but I will say he owned up to a lifetime of mistakes he made with us. He went so deep into it all, he bared his soul. It was both amazing, but also unsettling, which is why it’s been awhile since I have written here. It confirmed all of the things I had spent a lifetime feeling, which was amazing to be able to finally have a dad, to feel his love and feel his heart, and begin healing, but it was also like a giant punch to the gut, that I had been actually right, he was holding who our mother was against us. He did divorce us when she left him. There were other really hard parts, like watching him talk on the phone to his stepdaughter and step granddaughter, all the laughter and natural smiles, the love on full display, the joy on his face, all of the awkwardness we had, absent in those relationships. He knew and loved them, and they knew and loved him, they had the experience I has always longed for with him.

How is this about dogs? Because that vacancy is what brought me to a dog life. Dogs were and are my family. I took the need and the want I had for connection and I forged my own family with my pack of pups. They carried my heart for all of these years as it looked for its place to be. I truly do not think I would have survived this life without them. I know that sounds dramatic, but there were times, truly awful times when I stood on bridges and cliffs, broken and lost, wanting to just step off and leave it all behind. But it was always the sound of the pant, pant, pant next to me that kept me here. The thought of what would become of them always keeping my feet planted. Each night up there at my Dad’s house I crawled into bed, Leo pressed his entire body along my spine, his head resting either on my shoulder or my feet, the soft sound of his breath, the weight and warmth of his body wrapping all the way around my soul. In the mornings he would again lay along my side, snuffling into my ears his sweet morning snorts. My sister would come in our room and snuggle up with him too. Our little traveling therapy dog. Who knows what my life would have been if the start had been different, had those needs been met. I do know now, on this side of things I wouldn’t risk it, I wouldn’t change anything, because I love this dog life.

There was a moment where I had to choose. I was in my early teens, and so desperately wanted to get away from my life with Mom. I had suffered some serious abuse and neglect in my life with her. I yearned for safety and security. I knew my Dad would not offer much in the love and feels department, but I wanted to feel safe. But he would not let me bring my dog and said I had to choose him or the dog, the dog that kept my feet on the earth, that was the only source of comfort I felt. I obviously chose the dog. I stayed in the chaos and discomfort, walking fully into who I am today. This weekend I head back up to see my Dad for Father’s Day. I wonder if with more time he will be the same or will he have hardened back up a bit? I know one thing for sure, Leo is going. And no matter what we find, I know I’ll be ok.