Yesterday was the dreaded day I had to drop of the M-dog at the vet for teeth cleaning. I'm not sure who was more terrified - her or me. She is one of my big attachments - we love her so much, and she is one of few constants in a stormy sea of change and uncertainty. Well, I like to believe she is a constant, but as we experienced with her predecessor L-dog, losing your dog-friends is the most painful of reminders that all is inescapably impermanent.

I remember feeling so shaken when Lucky Dog, this unconditionally loving friend had been the one consistent thing in my life for twelve years as everything else came and went, was suddenly gone from our lives. Now that M-dog is ten years old, the realization grows that this experience will be repeated.

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Dog teeth cleaning is not as trivial as a visit by us to the dental hygenist. Dogs are sedated, hooked up to an IV and intubated, and rendered unconscious for an hour or so while their teeth and gums are scaled and cleaned up. There's always a risk that they won't make it back from the procedure.

And the look of panic on M-dog's face as she struggled not to be left behind at the vet's office as I left to her to go to work - it reflected what I felt as I slipped out the door and crossed the street to my empty car.

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