If I could live my life over, I'd want to do it like Raquel...

Never has so much spirit been contained inside a tiny dog's body.   Raquel lived uncomplaining in her nearly dark, nearly silent world.   Afraid of nothing, she required little from life, asked for nothing, and didn't complain when even her most meager needs were not met.   She accepted with grace and dignity anything she was given, grateful for the gift of a meal or a treat, thankful for a soft bed in which to curl up and sleep.  

You wouldn't know she was blind to see her out in the yard, trotting along as though she knew exactly where she was going... until she bumped into something in her way.   But bumps didn't disturb Raquel... she just got her bearings and headed off in another direction, not fearful that there would be other obstacles... she knew that they could be overcome.   She never let fear play any part in her life.  

Because she spent so much time outside exploring things she couldn't see or hear, there were times that she would finally come to the door and patiently wait to be let in.   She never walked in herself... she waited to be picked up and carried inside.   But if no one came for a while, that was okay too... she just curled up and took a nap until someone came to get her.

She greeted her food bowl with enthusiasm especially if it contained chicken or bread.   Her favorite snack was cheese Charlee Bears, eating as many of the little crackers as she was given.  And she loved to be cuddled.  It was so desperately easy to love her.  Nearly deaf, she would perk up and start moving her head around as if searching for me the minute she heard my voice.  She would put her paw on my knee and ask for up.   And when I left the room, she settled back down to sleep in either her bed or Zoey's bed.   Or if Zoey was in the bed, she crawled in next to her.

But most of all, she was content inside her dark quiet world, happy to be held and snuggled, but comfortable with her own company.   I could learn so much from her about acceptance, patience, and tolerance.   I'm so glad that I appreciated her while she was with me.
 

Lynda Lacono
June 20, 2006

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