In late summer, Emily was offered the chance to throw out the first pitch for a local minor league baseball team, the State College Spikes, which was holding a cancer fund-raiser. She surprised me by saying yes. We practiced her throw in the backyard, but I still wasn’t sure if she’d want to do it when the day came around. She did! She made her way out to the mound without a walker or a wheelchair and took a firm grip on the ball, just like we had practiced. Although her pitch didn’t make it all the way to home plate, it was strong and straight, and she got big applause from all her new fans in the stadium.
The organizer of the event, Kim Kawa-Ludwig, called Kari a few days later and said she had a wonderful surprise she wanted to give to Emily: a puppy.
After Emily went to bed that night, Kari and I talked it over. We’d never had a dog in the house because I love them too much to leave them alone all day when we’re out at work. But Emily had responded so strongly to Jasper, the therapy dog in the hospital. She still talked about him, and Kari said Emily imagined owning a dog. She’d even named her imaginary dog Lucy. So why not? we decided. Everything in our lives had changed so much in the last two months, why was I holding on to this cranky decision made years ago? Changing my mind might help Emily heal.
The next day Kari and I met with Kim halfway between our houses, in the small town of Osceola Mills, and were introduced to two adorable puppies, a white one and a speckled one. Even such tiny creatures have personalities. The white one had a bit of elegance in the way she threw her head, and she was frisky, eager to engage. The smaller puppy was a calico, with patches of brown and black on her white fur. The smaller pup held back, waiting for Kari to reach out to her.
“Full disclosure,” Kim said to Kari. “There might be something amiss in the multicolored one. She got carsick on the ride here.”
“Well, then she’s the one for us!” said Kari. She took the puppy up close to her face for a snuggle. “Yes, you are the one. This little baby has a lot in common with Emily.”
Kari wanted to give Emily the dog immediately, but I’m all for the big reveal. We’d already invited some of the family over for a barbecue that Saturday, so we decided to invite a few more. We knew everyone would want to witness this.
But what would we do with the puppy for the next two days? Kari said I should leave her with my folks, and I laughed at the thought of this wisp of a creature in the hands of Big Jim. When we were kids, my brothers and I always knew that people wouldn’t mess with us because they knew Big Jim would come looking for them if they did. In the last decade Big Jim had had to slow down. His strength, ironically, had created his weakness. He’d fallen out of the bucket one day when he was working on a transformer and broken his back. Being Big Jim, he shook off the pain and never went to a doctor. The next time he fell, a year later, he did serious damage to that poorly healed injury and had to retire on a disability pension. While he tended to his broken back, his roughness receded, and he transformed from Big Jim to Poppa Bear. The tender, generous, and loving parts of his big heart moved to the foreground. He was more sentimental and cried easily (and was embarrassed about that), but that solid love of his family always came through.
I walked into my parents’ house with the itty-bitty carrier that contained the puppy and rested it on the table next to my dad.
“What’s this, now?” he said gruffly.
I opened the gate to the carrier and brought out the puppy nestled in a fluffy pink blanket. My dad leaned forward to get a look.
“Aw!” he said. “Aw!”
“We got Emily a puppy. We’re going to give it to her Saturday at the barbecue. Could you keep her here until then?”
“Oh, sure, sure,” he said. “How could you not love that cutie?”
Dad placed the tiny puppy in the palm of his great big mitt and brought her closer to his face. They took a good look at each other.
“Aw!” he said again. “You know, Tom, anytime you don’t want her to be alone, just say the word. She’s always welcome here.”
We had to work hard to hide the preparations for the party. Emily knew we were having a backyard barbecue, but she had no idea how large it was going to be.
Before the party, we sent Emily out with my mom. When they returned, Emily was shocked by all the familiar cars parked in front of the house. Mom and Emily came up around the house and into the garden, and Emily came straight over to me and Kari. The crowd was silent, all eyes following Emily as she made her way across the yard.
“Emily, you’ve been so good and so brave these last months we wanted to give you something special,” Kari said.
Kari reached into the dog carrier and gently took out a blanket with the dog snuggled within.
Kari bent down to offer Emily the little bundle. Emily gasped.
“Lucy!” she said softly.
It was the whisper heard by everyone there. No one dared applaud the
