An Update to Missy
In order to bring this tale up to date, I must flashback to the days immediately after Missy awoke. I’ll never forget that morning. She lay there looking through foggy eyes at a sight of which she knew nothing. She watched me intently, as she lay nearly dead. Her eyes were still wet with salve and I knew she could see very little. I petted her for hours that day, and fed her honey water and some nutriment the vet left. She was slowly improving and tried to move a few times . . . then, she raised her head and looked at me so worried . . . so much in fear. She had wet herself and was obviously remembering her previous ‘house’ rules. I could see in her eyes she was apologizing strongly. I held her head on my lap and talked to her softly . . . reassuring her. She was wrapped in heavy beach towels and I wasn’t concerned about a little wet from this beautiful little girl, but I knew she had just done something against her will and may still be holding back more fluids than she should. I picked her up and carried her downstairs, through the foyer and out the front door. Once in the grass I lay her down in a sunny area and sat and talked to her. Her golden color stood out so proudly in the sunlight, as if Disney had sprinkled her with Fairy Dust or God Himself had just caressed her. She tried to stand but hadn’t the strength . . . so, I stayed with her to hold her steady. She finished her business and then flopped down exhausted on the grass.
This was her first day outside in the sun, and, I think, her very first time lying in soft grass. She seemed to lavish in the thick lawn and examined everything she could see, and a few nearby flowers that she could smell. As I think back, I noticed that she would smell a flower or blade of grass for many minutes rather than just the quick normal sniff, as if she’d never smelled a flower before. I rubbed her legs and back, and scratched her ears. I had a feeling that this animal thought she had died and was now in heaven, and loving every minute of each little pleasure.
Her eyes were becoming clearer, both to me and to her. It was obvious that she could see things now and was most likely focusing and fine-tuning her vision. As I patted her and stroked her nose . . . she lifted her head and licked my hand. God! Oh, my God, how wonderful that felt. She had acknowledged me . . . she had just said hello. This little angel, with floppy ears instead of wings, had just kissed my hand. I hugged her softly and kissed her nose. She would be my own little golden angel.
J. V. Dugas