The Old Man and the Dog

佚名/Anonymous

我一生中最难的事莫过于与梅格的诀别。当我需要她时，她总是会来到我的身边，她已成为我生命的一部分。

过去15年里，她一直是我最亲密的朋友，与我同欢乐，共悲伤。

她目睹了我一生中的许多事：结婚、离异、生子、失去母亲以及伺候久病的父亲。

在花园角落里，一棵开满鲜花的樱桃树下，我们安葬了她，那里曾是她最喜欢去的地方。马修用木头做了一个小十字架，劳拉则用红彩笔认真地把她的名字写在上面。

在这种情况下，朋友们总会提出各种建议，其中最多的就是让我再养一条狗。可是梅格这样的朋友是任何狗都无法取代的。

父亲在一次中风后，几乎生活不能自理。不过，在我的照料下，他总算康复了。而现在，我却感到他的状况已大不如从前。

梅格已经走了一个月了，一天，我端着托盘到花园找父亲。他喜欢坐在长椅上晒太阳。

“爸，来点茶和饼干吧！”我兴致勃勃地说。

他怔了一下，立刻背转身去。但他面颊的泪水，还是被我看到了。

“真是个好天气！”我忙找话说，给他时间整理思绪。

“是的，吉尔。”他终于开口了，“是个好天气。”

“吃点吧，爸！”

他叹了口气，然后抬起头，望着天空。

“孩子们快放学了，”我笑着说，“到时你再想吃饼干，就得和他们争了。”

父亲微微地笑了一下，而我强忍着没有哭出声来。

“爸，我爱你。”我把手放在他的肩头，“你要挺住。”

“我不知道你在说什么。”他耸了耸肩。

“不，你知道的。你一直在逐步地与病魔抗争，并正在战胜它。但最近你好像要放弃了。”

他叹了口气，拿起一块饼干，咬了一小口，然后冲我笑了。

父亲的状态也使医生很疑惑。

“十分抱歉，除了那次中风留下的后遗症外，你父亲几乎没别的什么病。至于精神方面嘛，我不知道他受过什么打击。”

医生说得对。父亲的血液检查结果毫无问题，其他的检查结果也都表明一切正常。他本来应该恢复得越来越好，可情况并不是这样。

我变着花样做饭，想使他渐退的食欲得以提高。甚至，我劝他坐车出去兜风。然而一回到家，他的情绪又低落起来。我隐隐约约觉得我又要失去父亲了。

更令人难以接受的是，父亲年轻时的样子还清晰地印在我的脑海里。他曾是那样的精力充沛，生气勃勃——他会把我扛在肩膀上；跟我在花园里追逐嬉闹，然后把我紧紧地搂在怀里。

我总是在他外出散步时，冲出房门跟在他的身后。他对生活曾是那样热情，而现在却只能把毯子铺在膝上，端坐在花园中，痛苦地凝视前方，看到他的这种变化，我的心都要碎了。

中风后的父亲刚来我这里时，只能躺在**。一想到梅格帮助父亲重新站起的情景，我就忍不住要笑。

亲爱的梅格！她从花园里叼起一截木棍，径直跑到楼上去。

我跟着她想看个究竟：她把木棍放到父亲**，后退了几步，然后用力摇着尾巴。

父亲从枕头上抬起头。

“这是什么？”

她轻柔地叫了起来，然后用鼻子蹭了蹭木棍。

“给我的？”父亲咯咯地笑了，便伸手去够棍子，可梅格却飞快地冲上前，把棍子抢了回去。

这成了一场游戏。每次父亲快要抢到棍子时，梅格总是抢先把棍子夺走。最后，她把木棍丢到地板上。这次梅格让父亲去拾木棍，自己则一动不动。

“吉尔！”父亲大声叫着，“吉尔！”

当我走近他时，他正在开怀大笑：“你能扶我下楼吗？”他问道，“我想坐在花园里，这样我可以为梅格扔木棍。”

“当然可以啊，爸爸。”我激动极了。从那刻起，父亲康复得很快。

梅格是我的朋友、孩子们的玩伴，但对于父亲来说，她更为重要。她整日与父亲形影不离，父亲独自一人时，她就伴随其左右。难怪他现在变得情绪低落。他长时间地坐着沉思，却无法摆脱心中的苦痛。

第二天，我把父亲安顿在花园里，并让他看管玩耍的孩子。

“我不会去太久，”我保证道，“爸，你还好吧？如果你需要什么，马修可以拿给你。”

“谢谢你，孩子，”父亲笑道，“不用担心，我会把一切都照顾好的。”

我知道我无法取代梅格，可是或许我能填补父亲生活中的这一缺憾。

从未光临过动物之家的我，进去吓了一跳：不仅有狗和猫，还有一对小马，三只矮羊和一群兔子——他们正等着进入新家。

这里有两位女看护。我忍不住讲起了自己的故事。

其中一位叫巴布斯的看护把我带到围栏的尽头。在那里，我看到了萨蒂，她蹲在角落里，但并不是安静地待着，而是不停地嚎叫着，那声音听了令人心碎。见到我们后，她静了下来，走到我面前，好像在透过铁丝网打量我。

我把手指从栏杆伸进去，她却怯生生地躲开了；我温柔地跟她说话，哄她过来。似乎过了许久，她才上前舔我的手指。

“她很温顺。”我说道，但心里却想着怎样才能让她喜欢上我那些淘气的孩子：那几乎是不可能的。想到这里，我的心不禁凉了半截。

“她的主人搬家了，”巴布斯说道，“她被寄养在养狗场，主人说一周后来接她，可是至今仍杳无音信。现在要让萨蒂信任别人是一件很困难的事。可一旦她喜欢上你，谁知道将会发生什么事情呢？”

“心太狠了！”我感叹道，“怎么可以这样？”

“噢，也许事实更糟，”巴布斯接着说，“她的身体从未受过伤害，然而信心却受了重创。她的信心需要不断地恢复。她再也不能忍受孤独了。”

“她不会再孤独了。”我答道。这时，萨蒂摇了摇尾巴，似乎明白了我的意思。“请相信我，在我家永远都有爱。”

回到家时，没有见到马修和劳拉。父亲仍茫然地注视着前方。他连读书的兴趣都没有了，似乎他的生活就是注视着时间慢慢逝去。

“爸……”

他转过身抬头看了看我，看到我不是一个人回来时，他愣住了。我望着父亲，他的眼睛紧盯着这条狗，不知怎地我忽然感到他会拒绝接纳她。但是父亲不是那种人……他把手伸出来招呼萨蒂。

“小姑娘，过来，”他轻声道，“我不会伤害你的。”

终于，萨蒂试着向父亲走去——在他的毯子上嗅来嗅去。

“她叫什么？”父亲问我。

“萨蒂。”

“你好，萨蒂。”

萨蒂紧挨着父亲的腿坐了下来。父亲就像对待梅格一样，轻轻地抚摸着萨蒂的头，他从不厌倦这个动作。

“她需要很多的爱。”我对父亲讲了萨蒂的故事。

霎时父亲看起来很生气，无论是对动物，还是对孩子，甚至是对成人，他从不能容忍任何形式的残忍。

“喂，”他轻声道，“我们得补偿一下她，你为什么想起又弄只狗来呢？”

“啊，我……”

“没关系，这样很好！”父亲拍了一下我的手说，“我知道你想梅格，孩子们也一样。不过，现在她能陪你们了。你们可以到远点的地方散步了。我也可能跟着你们转转。我可不想坐在这里度过我的后半辈子。”

这是几个月以来父亲第一次提到将来，我的心随之一热。

“我不可能一下子就能走很远的路。”父亲接着说道，“但要是我逐渐恢复元气的话……”

马修和劳拉这时出现了。萨蒂也忍不住兴奋起来。她奔向孩子们，犹如见到了久别的朋友。我看了看父亲，他正开怀大笑。

我想，那些遗弃萨蒂的人，是否会意识到他们失去了什么呢。这是他们失去的，也是我们收获的。萨蒂在这里找到了新家。她不会再失望的。我想，这一点萨蒂也清楚得很。

其实，萨蒂以一种奇特的方式填补梅格离去所留下的缺憾。

父亲没有把萨蒂带出花园。他跟着她在园中四处转，不停地对她讲着什么，而萨蒂则出神地望着父亲。

昨天是梅格离去一周年的日子，过去的一年已经逝去，新的生活已经开始。

在那棵樱桃树下，孩子们栽种了几棵雪花莲，算是对梅格永远的怀念。我们都不禁潸然泪下。

后来，我期待已久的奇迹终于出现了：父亲慢慢地走进厨房，把萨蒂的牵狗带从钩子上取了下来。

萨蒂兴奋地叫着，绕着圈儿不停地跑，差点儿跌倒，似乎她也明白这是个特殊的日子。

“好了，有谁想和我们一块儿去散步吗？”

在这之前，父亲只是绕着花园遛狗，如果要遛的时间长些，他就把她交给我或孩子们。所以这时，我不禁屏住了呼吸。

“我去！”马修抓起了外衣就走。

“我也去！”劳拉的胳膊已经伸进了袖子里。

我站在窗前，看着他们慢慢走向大道。父亲在中间，他的手紧紧拽着萨蒂的牵狗带。两个孩子在左右。走到一半，父亲突然停住了。我的心一下子紧张起来。

我屏住气，这时才发现原来他正在放声大笑。笑声洪亮，甚至连我都听到了。刹那间我的泪水夺眶而出。

我冲向门厅，把外衣从挂衣架上拽下，跑了出去。

“爸！”我喊道。

他们的脚步停了下来，都转向我。

“爸！”我像个6岁的孩子，再次喊道，“我可以和你们一起散步吗？”

“多多益善！”他答道。父亲伸出双臂，那架势把我又带到了孩童时代。

我奔向他，心怦怦地跳着。我知道这次他再也不能像从前那样将我托起，原地打转了。

但是当他把我搂在怀中，抱紧我时，我分明感到心中又涌起同样的感受。

“爸，欢迎你回来！”我轻声说道。这时，父亲把我搂得更紧了。

Saying goodbye to Meg was the hardest thing I've ever done. She'd been part of my life for so long， always there when I needed her.

Throughout the last fifteen years， she'd been my closest friend， sharing my joy and sadness.

She'd seen me marry and divorce， have two children， lose my mother and nurse my father through a long illness. So much in one lifetime.

We buried her in her favourite corner of the garden， beneath the flowering cherry tree. Matthew made a little cross out of wood and Laura carefully printed her name in red crayon.

Friends are always full of good advice at times like that. Get another dog is one of the favourites—but you can't replace a friend like that.

My father had been left almost helpless after a stroke. I'd nursed him back to health， but I was beginning to feel that we'd taken a step backwards.

A month after Meg's passing， I took a tray into the garden for Dad. He liked to sit on the bench in the sunshine.

"Tea and biscuits， Dad." I said cheerfully.

He turned away， startled， but not before I'd seen the tears on his cheek.

"What a lovely day，" I burbled， giving him time to compose himself.

"Yes， Jill，" he said at last. "It's beautiful."

"Try to eat something， Dad."

He sighed and looked up at the sky.

"The children will be home from school soon." I smiled. "Then you'll have a fight on your hands if you want a biscuit."

He chuckled softly and I had to swallow the lump which had risen in my throat.

"I love you， Dad." I rested my hand on his shoulder. "Please， don't give up."

"I don't know what you mean." He shrugged.

"Yes， you do. You've fought every inch of the way， you were winning， too， but lately， it's as if you've just given up."

He heaved a sigh and picked up a biscuit， nibbling at it before grinning at me.

Dad's decline puzzled the doctor， too.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing physically wrong with your father， apart from what's left over from the stroke. And mentally， well， I really don't think there's anything to worry about there."

The doctor was right. Dad's blood tests came back clear， and further tests showed nothing wrong. He should have been continuing to get better—but he wasn't.

I tried all kinds of new meals to tempt his failing appetite. I ever persuaded him to come for a drive in the car， but as soon as we got home， he'd sink back into apathy and I'd think， I'm losing him again.

What made it so much harder to bear was the fact that I remembered him so well as a young man. He'd been so full of energy and life， carrying me on his shoulders， chasing me around the park and catching me up in his arms.

He's set off for a walk and always， always， I'd run out of the house behind him. He'd had such a zest for life that it broke my heart to see him now， sitting out in the garden， a blanket over his knees， gazing miserably into space.

When he first came to live with us after the stroke， he'd been bed-ridden. I smiled as I remembered how Meg had finally got him up.

Dear Meg. She'd brought in a stick from the garden and trotted straight upstairs with it？

I followed her， wondering what on earth she was up to. She deposited the stick on Dad's bed， then stepped back， wagging her tail like mad.

Dad lifted his head from the pillow.

"What's this？"

She barked ever so softly and nudged the stick with her nose.

"For me？" Dad chuckled， reaching for it， but Meg was too quick and snatched the stick back.

It turned into a game. Every time Dad tried to touch her stick， she whipped it away. At last， she dropped it on the floor. This time， Meg let him pick it up.

"Jill？" Dad shouted. "Jill？"

When I got to him he was laughing. "Would you help me down the stairs？" he asked. "I'd like to sit out in the garden. I can throw the stick for Meg."

"Of course， Dad." I'd been thrilled and from that moment on， he'd progressed in leaps and bounds.

Meg had been a friend to me， a playmate to the children， but she'd been so much more to Dad. She'd been with him all the time， keeping him company for the hours he had to spend alone. No wonder he'd declined. He had time to sit and brood and think， and sadness had settled all around him.

The following day， I settled Dad in the garden and left the children playing under his watchful eye.

"I won't be long，" I promised. "You'll be all right， Dad？ If you want anything， Matthew can get it for you."

"Thanks， love." Dad smiled. "Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on things."

I could never replace Meg， I knew that. But I could， perhaps， fill a void in Dad's life.

I'd never been to an animal home before and wasn't prepared for the shock. Not only dogs， but cats， a couple of ponies， three pygmy goats and several rabbits wanted new homes.

Two sisters ran the place. Hardly aware of what I was doing， I found myself pouring out my life story to them.

Bahs， one of the two nurses， led me to the end of the row of pens. There， in the very end， I saw Sadie sitting in the corner. She wasn't sitting quietly. She was howling—a sad， heart-broken noise. As soon as she saw us， she stopped and came over to me， staring at me through the wire. She seemed to be weighing me up.

When I poked my fingers through the bars， she shied away from them. I spoke softly to her， coaxing her to come to me. After what seemed an age， she came forward and licked my fingers.

"She's very gentle，" I remarked， wondering how she would take to my noisy children. I'd already lost my heart to her in a way I never imagined possible？

"Her owners moved away，" Babs said. "They put her in boarding kennels， saying they'd be back in a week but they never returned. She won't give her trust easily， but if she's given enough love— well， who knows？"

"How cruel？" I gasped."How could they？"

"Oh， it could have been a lot worse，" Babs continued. "She was never physically hurt， but her confidence has taken a terrible battering. She needs constant reassurance and can't bear to be alone."

"She'd never be alone，" I said and Sadie wagged her tail as if she understood. "And in our house， believe me， there's no shortage of love？"

When I got home， Matthew and Laura were out of sight. Dad， as always， was staring into space. He didn't even bother to read any more， but seemed to spend his whole life just watching time slip away.

"Dad…"

He turned and looked up at me， taking a moment or two to register that I wasn't alone. I looked at Dad's face. He stared at the dog and for an awful moment， I thought he was going to reject her. But Dad could never be cruel… he stretched out his hand and called to her.

"Come on， lass，" he said softly. "I won't hurt you."

At last， she ventured up to him and sniffed at his blanket.

"What's her name？" Dad asked me.

"Sadie."

"Hello， Sadie."

She sat beside him， pressing against his legs while he stroked her head. He'd never tired of doing that， just as he'd never tired of petting Meg.

"She needs a lot of love，" I said and explained why.

Dad looked really angry for a moment. He could never stand any kind of cruelty， to animals， children or even over adults.

"Well，" he said softly. "We'll just have to make it up to her. What made you get another dog？"

"Well， I…"

"No， it's all right." Dad patted my hand. "I know how you miss Meg. The children do， too. She'll be company for you and you'll be able to go for nice long walks again. Perhaps I'll be able to take a turn with the walks. I don't intend to spend the rest of my life sitting here？"

It was the first time in months he'd given any thought to the future. It warmed my heart.

"I couldn't go far at first，" he went on. "But if I gradually build up my strength…"

Matthew and Laura appeared then and Sadie brightened up. She ran to greet them as if they were long-lost friends. When I looked at Dad， he was laughing.

I thought of the people who had abandoned Sadie and wondered if they really knew just what they were missing. It was their loss， our gain. We were her family now and we'd never let her down. I think she knew that.

In fact， in a strange way， Sadie seemed to take over where Meg left off.

Dad didn't take her out of the garden， but he'd walk up and down with her， chatting all the time. She'd gaze up at him， entranced.

Yesterday marked the anniversary of Meg's death. A year has passed. A new era has begun.

The children planted some snowdrops beneath the cherry tree， determined that Meg should never be forgotten. We all shed a few tears.

Then the miracle I'd waited so long for happened. Dad walked slowly into the kitchen and took Sadie's lead down from its hook.

Sadie barked merrily and turned round and round in circles until she almost fell over. She seemed to sense that this was a special occasion.

"Right， anyone coming for a walk？"

He's only ever walked her round the garden before. Longer walks were left to me or the children. I held my breath.

"I'll come." Matthew grabbed for his coat.

"And me." Laura was already pushing her arms into the sleeves of her Jacket.

I stood at the window and watched their slow progress down the road， Dad in the middle holding tight to Sadie's lead， a child on either side of him. He got halfway down the road， then stopped. My heart stopped with him.

I held my breath， then realized he'd stopped because he was laughing？ He laughed so loud that I could even hear him. Tears ran freely down my face.

I hurried to the hall， pulled my coat from the peg and ran outside.

"Dad？" I yelled.

They stopped and turned.

"Dad，" I called again， feeling all of six years old. "Can I come？"

"The more the merrier，" he called back and held out his arms， just like he used to when I was a little girl.

I ran to him， heart pounding， knowing that this time he wouldn't be able to lift me and whirl me round.

But as he enfolded me in his arms and hugged me close， the feeling was every bit as good.

"Welcome back， Dad，" I whispered， and he hugged me even tighter.