Merlin has been sitting on the desk with me a lot lately, so when he turned up again this morning, I simply stroked his head and went back to what I was doing on the computer.
He moved a little closer and I began to wonder if something was wrong. I studied him for a while, then gently put my hand on his head. He looked bright enough and his head and ears felt cool, so I let my hand slide slowly down his back. He looked up at me with so much wisdom and intelligence in his amber eyes and at that moment, I experienced a deep communication between us as our eyes met.
It is usually difficult to see Merlin’s eyes properly, as they seem to vanish in his black face, but for once I could clearly see him looking at me.
He stretched his head towards me until our heads were almost touching. I was sure he had something to tell me, but all I felt was such overwhelming sadness. Was it just his sorrow, or my own somehow joining together?
“You okay, Merlin?”
I had the strongest feeling he wasn’t, as I knew old age was creeping up on him too. I had seen how many times he missed the couch when a jump failed, and how he often stumbled as he walked around. I found myself wondering if he ever thought about how much time he had left, as I often did. The thought that neither of us might not last much longer brought tears to my eyes.
He stayed with me for a while and I with him, sharing something very special.
Two old souls, emotionally communicating on some deeper level.