I write frequently about my battle with cancer for many reasons. Becoming acquainted with cancer has altered my life forever and I believe I am much better at sorting through what is and what is not important in my life. One of the strongest medicines I have been given is the opportunity to share these lessons with you and for that, I am eternally grateful.
On a soggy, bitterly cold day in early March of 2011, my husband Dale and I drove to Monmouth, Maine; a place we had never been. I had fallen deeply in love with a Goldendoodle puppy and Dale and I were on our way to gather him up in our arms and bring him home.
Because we were so early reaching our destination, we explored Monmouth for a while and came upon the Theatre at Monmouth, a stunning castle-like building that is world known not only for its architecture but also for the wondrous performances that take place in true Shakespearean form. I walked into the front portion of the theatre, enchanted by the intricate carvings and towering walls and ceiling. The old mahogany doors glistened despite the faint light that gently pushed its way through the small glass windows looming above me. The experience was stellar, but I began to weep. For months now, my body had been sending out subtle warnings that something was wrong; terribly wrong. I had no idea that the terrible thing was cancer and I stood there in that magnificent building, shivering in the dampness, unaware of the journey that was about to begin.
We named our new puppy Barney Rubble. His father is a pure bred Standard Poodle and his mother is a pure bred English Golden Retriever. Barney’s color is best described as a “lightly toasted marshmallow,” an incredible ivory tone that is in sharp contrast to his black eyes and his nose. He is far from perfect! He loves to bark, steal anything that can fit into his mouth and his behavior in the car or truck can be exasperating. He loves to wrestle with Dale at the most inopportune times and at ninety-two pounds, he can easily knock me to the ground with one of his friendly jumps. He is terrified of flower pots and loud noises. He likes fleece blankets, especially mine. He is constantly at my side or watching me from his favorite chair, those big bright eyes filled with love and devotion. I recall standing on my deck last summer, waving my fist at the sky and screaming at God. Barney would sit in front of me, his head tilted upward, unflinching as I raved about the unfairness of cancer. He was my guardian; a sentinel who protected my wounded faith. When I had no more words to say, Barney would lean against me; waiting for my anger to subside.
If you happen to see Dale and me driving around in town, you will more than likely also see Barney peeking out from between us, those brilliant eyes scanning his world. Though we picked him up in Monmouth, he comes from a much different place: light-years away from Earth. Far above the moon and just beyond the stars.
Editor’s Note: Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives Connor TWP with her husband Dale and their Goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@maine.rr.com.
