Ben

Ben arrived at the airport in cargo. His huge crate metal door which had been secured shut with 8 zip ties. The woman at the cargo counter, verified my ID and handed me

the paperwork that gave me ownership of Ben. I smiled and thanked her as I observed the woman at the counter and her co-worker moving towards the back of the room, putting themselves at a safe distance from the enormous crate. Ben had travelled all night from California, he lived the first four years of his life with a beautiful professional model and her family. She had recently given birth to her second child and at that point she had decided that Ben needed to be rehomed. He would spend hours upon hours in his crate in the beautiful all white bungalow occupied by the model and her family. I remember thinking about her children, the oldest barely crawling and the newborn, an "oopsie baby" and the white lush carpets and sofas. An amusing thought crossed my mind, how was she planning to avoid food, crayons and spit up milk from becoming part of the decor with two little ones. I shook my head at the thought laughing as I walked to Ben's crate. The zip ties were impossible to be unfastened or broken by hand. Ben and I exchanged our first look. He was huge, much bigger than I had unticipated. His ears stood, he was alert but silent. We spent a few minutes looking at each other, Ben pressing his nose on the metal door, trying to get acquainted by smelling my scent. I pressed my hand against the metal door, Ben sniffed loudly making snorting sounds that made me laugh. Ben tilted his head at the sound of my laugh. That moment marked the start of my first successful relationship with another being. I stood up and ran to the counter, I asked for scissors in order to cut the zip ties. The person at the counter handed me the scissors and she returned to the back of the room where her co-worker stood. I started to cut the zip ties, Ben watched me silently. I opened the metal door and Ben emerged, he was the biggest German Shepherd I had ever seen. I had forgotten to leash him, but he did not attempt to flee. He stretched himself arching his back and into a deep bow. He shook himself and he looked around with curiosity. He was now looking at me. His beautiful brown eyes had a glint of recognition as he was seeing a long lost friend for the first time in a while.

I stood up and Ben moved swiftly to my left side. His body gently leaned on my left thigh. I was transfixed by this show of trust and by his quiet stillness. I realized that he was waiting for my next move. He wanted me to lead the way instead of having me frantically chase him yelling "come back here" as it had been the case in my past experiences of owning a dog. I took a few steps forward and Ben accompanied me, matching my speed and stopping as I stopped. I looked back to the counter where the attendants stood looking at the scene. I told them that they could keep the crate and without hesitation, I walked out of the cargo area with Ben walking by my side, gently bumping on my thigh with each step, a feeling that grounded me and filled me with peace throughout the next six short years of Ben's life.

We walked through the airport and the parking lot with ease. Ben matched my steps as we crossed the street to the parking lot, holding the loose leash that I had fastened to his collar. He jumped in the back seat of my car, the tip of his ears slightly folded as they touched the ceiling in the car. I made a mental note that I may need a bigger car.

I drove home exchanging glances with Ben in the back seat. He had still not made any sound at that point. He just sat in Zen like contemplation of his surroundings as he would look out the window watching the cars and evergreens go by, probably wondering about the total absence of palm trees, sand and the Ocean.

I arrived home and Ben followed me from the garage into our home. I said a little "tada"! Feeling it was appropriate after the many hours he had spent crouched down in his crate, flying to Massachusetts from California.

Ben inspected every inch of the house, never moving more than a few steps from me. I served him water. Big bowl watching as he drank most of it in one go. I poured the premium kibble that had been sent by his former owner into another bowl, Ben sniffed it and left it untouched. I sat down in my bed studying the paperwork I had been given at the airport.

Ben was originally from Germany where he had obtained his title in obedience, he had a passport where his date of entrance in the US was recorded. He was almost two years old when he arrived at his former home in California. There was a list of "commands" that Ben knew due to his past obedience training that gave him the title of Schutzhund I. Her former owner had attached the list to his rabies certificate and health records.

Ben tilted his head as I said each command. The last command was written in red pen and next to it a warning " this is the "bite" command, in case you find yourself in danger".

I looked at Ben who at this point had lay down by my feet and started to snore softly. His enormous paws touched my feet. He slept soundly for a whole hour. I lay in bed watching this magnificent dog. Ben woke up and after a big stretch, he sat looking at me in the same adoring way that Jeannie would look at Major Nelson.

For The next six years, Ben and I walked side by side everywhere, he was always a gentleman, quiet and unobtrusive, content with just being right by my side. At night he would sleep by my bed, the only time in my life that I found myself being lulled into sleep by the sound of his snoring.

Ben and I were at the veterinarian's office, after I noticed that Ben would at times drag his back feet. His toenails were visibly shorter in his back legs. The vet folded Ben's back feet and let it go, I watched this action, puzzled by it. Ben's foot stayed folded, the vet repeated the same action on his other foot which remained folded as the vet had positioned.

I asked, so Doc, what is going on? Does he need antibiotics I ask. The vet looked at me, she swallowed hard, she put Ben's foot back in his original position. She petted his huge hair and gave him some of his favorite treats she had fished out of her pockets. She sat down and as she looked at me she said "Ben has DM", his spinal cord is slowly degenerating, like it happens to humans with Lou gerig's disease. Degenerative myelopathy she said. I looked at the vet, her face looked grim, she held my hand and said, no antibiotics, there is no cure. Take him home and enjoy your time with him, he will lose the ability to walk and ultimately the paralysis will reach his brain and... there is nothing to be done. I left the vets office with a bag filled with supplements and three huge bags filled with his favorite liver snack. Ben bounced happily by my side, his body gently bumping on my left leg. I loved that feeling, I stopped and kneeling on the floor I hugged my Ben. The creature who had taught me how to love without ever saying a word.

Ben's back legs started to drag more and more, his gait became unsteady, he felt no pain, he was puzzled by his legs refusing to run after his beloved ball. The last month of his life, Ben showed again his selflessness and love as he stopped sleeping by my side of the bed, knowing that I would have to learn to live without him. I would cradle his big head on my lap after helping onto the sofa in the living room where he chose to sleep. I would tell him how much I loved him, his friendship and his quiet strength had carried me through some very difficult times. I would kiss his forehead and I would leave him, laying on the couch. I knew he would step down as soon as I went to bed and he would lay on the floor.

The vet had said to me "Ben will tell you when it is time for him to go". I spent our last nights together, trying to see myself without Ben. "He is just a dog" I was told by well meaning friends and family to whom( tried to explain that he was so much more. He was my friend, my buddy, my protector, his Zen like presence filled me with peace.

Ben did tell me when it was time for him to go. He had left the living and dragged himself to my bedroom, he looked confused and he whimpered, trembling in my arms.

The next day I sat on the ground in the vet's office, I cradled Ben's big head as he left for the stars, he went back somewhere in the universe, where he will wait for me. I always visit our favorite spots, and as I walk, I swear that I can still feel the bumpty bump bump of Ben’s body against my left leg.