This is our dog, Hobbes. Like Calvin and Hobbes, which is one of my mother’s favorite comic strips. Hobbes was adopted into our family in 2009 as a hyper, feisty, protective little thing who I instantly fell in love with. See, I was terrified of all dogs except puppies since I was about nine years old. I preferred cats to dogs (still do tbh) but it was Hobbes who changed my heart and allayed my fears.
For so many years, Hobbes has been one of the fastest, most alert dogs I’ve ever seen. She could run like the damn wind and turned into the Hulk whenever anyone got too close to us. One of my fondest memories of Hobbes is when we were on a walk and this white woman tried to pet her. I told that fool that Hobbes didn’t like people, but white people never listen or like to hear the word “no” so she tried anyway. When I tell you Hobbes tried to take her face off, I am not exaggerating. That’s how protective she was and still is.
I recently visited my mother and I was not prepared for the decline Hobbes has experienced. Instead of her running for her ball as soon as I walked in, Hobbes barely knew who I was. She laid on her dog bed and hardly moved. She didn’t bark her high-pitched bark when she wanted attention, nor did she jump on the sofa so she could sit on my lap for belly rubs. When she did leave her dog bed, Hobbes looked confused and walked very slowly to her water bowl. Her big eyes, which usually saw everything, are now somewhat clouded, her right eye more than her left. When I tried to pet her, I had to move very slowly because she couldn’t really see my hand coming towards her. It was shocking and very sad to see. But it also reminded me that one day, I may be Hobbes on some level. I may not move as fast as I do now, may become infirm or mentally incapacitated, not be able to see as well (God please don’t mess with my eyesight anymore than it’s been messed with already), or I may not even make it to a ripe old age. Or I may be just fine. I may be one of those old people who skydives, hikes, travels and enjoys the remainder of my life. It’s all a crap shoot because our other dog, Chanel, is also older but is still as hyper as ever. She may have more around the middle, but she can still move pretty well and barks at everything.
One the other end, my daughter gave birth to her first child last year (which is why I haven’t written anything in so long). He was born three months premature and had to spend time in the NICU. His birth was a huge surprise and very stressful for my daughter and turned our lives upside down. But thankfully, she and my grandson were given the absolute best care, something I was terrified about since Black women die at such high rates in childbirth. My grandson came home safe and sound and has been thriving ever since. And I am terrified of the world he has been born into. I worry about his education, his health, the fact that America will hate him for being born because of a white supremacist system he didn’t create. I pray that he will be financially stable (he will if I have anything to do with it), have a real childhood like his mother did growing up, and never worry about interacting with the police. But then I think about his firsts: first words, first steps, first day of school, first time traveling abroad. The first time I saw my grandson smile, I almost wept. I take every opportunity to hold him but watching him be cared for by my daughter fills me with more joy than I ever thought possible.
Life is such a chaotic bitch because it loves to make our lives miserable and incredibly exciting at the same time. My family is holding its breath wondering when the day will come when Hobbes eventually leaves us. We’re also so very hopeful and have been working together to give my grandson the future he deserves. He has reminded us that we can do anything and to take more chances, to not become complacent or numb about the world. I know I will be devastated when Hobbes leaves us for good, but I will remember the love she gave to all of us. And I will take that love and pass it on to my grandson as he becomes the person he wants to be.