I received this email from a friend a few days after I posted my last blog entry:
“Good grief, Hilary. It is such an amazing and miraculous thing that she can do this and that she is in your life. It just makes me break out into a cold sweat to hear about this, to know how many times she has caught you on the brink. “Good girl” is such a small response but it is all she wants – a healthy you and your love.”
This letter is a wake-up call for me. I hadn’t realized I take Rainie and her alerting so much for granted. I rarely acknowledge all the “what-may-have-happened-if ” Rainie had not done her job. She is always at my side. It doesn’t matter whether we’re snuggling, hiking, playing at the beach, or (apparently) sleeping, she’s always aware of what’s going on with me. Gently, I’ll feel her head nudging against me, or her paw on my arm, letting me know I need to pay attention to me. I have become so accustomed to her constant monitoring that I have begun taking her presence and her performing her ‘responsibilities’ for granted. I forget the fear and uncertainty I used to live with. I used to feel so alone – especially when my blood sugar would drop suddenly, putting others and myself in peril. Not anymore.
And, like my friend stated so simply, Rainie asks for so little in return. She wants love, acknowledgement and attention (and food). For Rainie, a soft word and loving pet go a long way.
“Good Girl, Rainie!” truly means so much more. You are my friend, my constant companion, and vigilant blood glucose monitor and lifesaver. You make me laugh with your antics, and loved by your closeness and ever-present being. Good girl Rainie! I love you! I can’t imagine my life without you!