And just as sensitive to my moods. He proved that today.
It was one of those days where something triggered a mood swing that threw me into a dark pit - and the further I fall, the darker it gets.
Fall is an accurate word to describe the sensation of becoming lost in a world where everything good becomes lost in a tailspin of mental and emotional destruction. I never quite know how these depressions start - all I know is where they are taking me is not good.
I left the kitchen, growing colder by the minute. I felt hunted and angry, in a home that is safe and warm. I couldn't meet what was attacking me to neutralize the threat, so the feelings grew stronger, darker, more angry and frustrated. Beaufort was concentrating on trying to paw his blanket out from his kennel under the kitchen island when I left the room.
It was all happening in a matter of minutes, and I couldn't escape. Hardened by my emotional desperation I walked through the living room and started up the stairs. I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do - until I heard paws behind me. I turned to face Beaufort looking at me, standing in the middle of the room with a very concerned look on his face.
"What do you want?" I asked, not unkindly but not warmly either. He continued to look at me, so I turned and went upstairs. I had barely gone into the room, when I heard those paws coming up the stairs, following me. I sat down in a chair I've had next to our door for some time now, bewildered at the actions of my follower, as he came through the door - but only for a moment. Without hesitation he buried his head under my arm, then raising himself up, climbed with his forequarters into my lap and started nuzzling me.
I broke, and the darkness fled.
The pure love of devotion and trust only he could have given, reached beyond the betrayal humans had thrust into my life, came into the jungle I was being drug into, and pulled me out. My dogs had kept me alive before, and now Beaufort was doing it again, as unselfishly and reliably as ever. I put my arms around him, cried and laughed with him, and when I came downstairs again it was as if I had never been challenged. We were together, and I knew I would make it.
We go through this every day, some worse than others - sometimes I catch myself, but sometimes I trip and fall away too fast to pull myself to safety. The war may not be over for me, but that's when he lets me know I'm not fighting this battle alone.
This country is worth fighting for - my Wife and Beaufort are proof of that blessing as I am given one more day they keep giving me, to enjoy seeing their faces in the window as they greet the rumble of our Harley as I come home.
He's my Service Dog - God bless them all for their gift of devotion.
