Healing paws

I have to say that one huge blessing for our family through all these horrible weeks and months since George died in May is big and shaggy, weighs nearly 100 pounds, and has four enormous paws. And such capacity for love and knowing just when we need it.

Albert is an Old English Sheepdog puppy who just turned one on September 16. He is named for Einstein - the hair, not the intellect. We had an OESD before named Duncan, who died just shy of his 12th birthday in 2004. When my husband saw a posting for OESD pups last November on Kiijii or whatever it's called, we debated about an hour because he knew how much I missed having a dog in the house but our fifth child was due to be born in 2009.

We decided to crank up the crazy and get the puppy. Although it was completely looney at times because I ended up with pneumonia for nearly four months during the pregnancy and had not only the children but this bundle of furry nuttiness to care for and tire out. I often felt as though my days revolved around toileting as our Mairi Rose was potty training and Albert was being housetrained. Large puppies leave pretty significant puddles if you're not vigilant.

Here he is with my belly just weeks before the birth of our fifth child:



And then George's heart stopped beating during my labour and he was stillborn.

I cannot express enough how amazing this furry family member has been throughout this journey of grief. My husband filmed our oldest son, who was so devastated by the loss of his new baby brother, playing with Albert in the backyard of our old house when he got home from holding his sibling's body in hospital. That unconditional love and yearning for attention was such a saving grace in that moment and so many others since we moved to our new home in a new city. For our oldest son, it's been a magnificent bond of boy and best friend:

Our daughter, only two when her baby brother died, was confused and bewildered by everyone's sorrow. She has always loved this pup of ours, but so many times now we find her draped across Albert or snuggled in his front paws. This gentle giant and those four big old paws offer such kind comfort:

All the children have laughed and hooted at the antics of this loopy animal. Like all puppies, Albert is curious and has boundless energy. They lauded him a hero when he killed the wasp that stung poor Mairi's finger. They shrieked with joy when he joined them on the playground equipment at the park, determined to climb up with his human charges. His goofy face and happy self have brought such joy to our sad household. As Gerard said wisely, "It's amazing how no matter what happens, you can't take the jolly out of Albert." Danno said, "He never holds a grudge. He's just happy to see us and play again." They've taught him to play soccer (but he tends to be a ball hog) and they've delighted in his naughtiness swiping food from the counter and rolling in mud:



Crazy Albert had us all in hysterics one rainy miserable afternoon when we discovered he loves the shop vaccuum. Who needs television when you have this to watch:



And for me, trying to keep on through the post-partum misery of a babylost mumma, this big beastie was another motivation to get us out of the house. With just the children I could have hidden inside all summer, staying in the house and the yard and drowning in sorrow. But the sanity of a tired puppy drove me to get us all out and walking, exploring our new city. We took on a little paper route and met loads of neighbours because of this big shaggy dog. He's been there for our tears. He's helped us meet people when I for one wasn't feeling sociable. He's made us laugh so much.



Thank you, Albert. We love you. What would we have done without you and your zany puppy love? You've helped us all so much as we try to heal from our loss.