An Extra Ten Minutes

An Extra Ten Minutes

On our first visit, as we walked through the canary7-yellow Hallway One, I heard an elderly man’ s excited voice, thick with a German accent, streaming8 out of room 112. “ Ma, Ma, the German dog is here! The German dog is here!”

No sooner did I hear the voice than a wrinkle-faced,six-foot? tall,white-haired pogo stick9 of a man was greeting us at the door, swooping10 his big, open hand and strong arm across the doorway, inviting us in. “ I’ m Charlie. This is my wife,Emma.Come in, come in.”

When Beau heard Charlie’ s friendly, enthusiastic voice, his entire body went into his customary wagging frenzy11 and lean?

Against-your-thigh position, waiting for a petting, which was immediately forthcoming12 from Charlie. As we walked into the room, a frail but lively eightyish, violet-haired Emma sat in bed, smiling, patting her hand on the bed. All she had to do was pat once, and Beau, leashed13 and always obedient14, was up on the bed lying down beside her, licking her face. Her eyes teared up as Charlie told us that he and Emma had immigrated to the United States from Germany during World War II and had to leave their beloved Doberman, Max,behind. Max, according to Charlie, was the spitting image15 of Beau.

The next door, room 114,was home to Katherine, a woman in her seventies who had stopped talking for a few months earlier and had been living in a catatonic16 state in her wheelchair for the past month. No amount of love, hugs, talking or sitting had been able to stir her.When Beau and I walked into her room, a small light was on next to her bed and the shades were pulled. She was sitting in her wheelchair, her back toward us, slouched17 over, facing the viewless window.

Beau was pulling ahead of me with his leash. Before I could get around to kneel down in front of her, he was at her left side, with his head in her lap. I pulled a chair up in front of her and sat down, saying hello. No response. In the fifteen minutes that Beau and I sat with Katherine, she never said a word and never moved. Surprising as that may be, more surprising was that Beau never moved either. He stood the entire fifteen minutes, his long chin resting on her lap.

If you knew Beau, you#39;d know that even ten seconds was an eternity18 to wait for a petting. Not here. He was as frozen as Katherine, head glued to her lap. I became so uncomfortable with the lack of life in this woman that, much as I wished I felt differently, when the clock chimed19 2： 30 P.M., I rushed to say good-bye, stood up and pulled the reluctant Beau out.

I asked one of the nurses why Katherine was catatonic. “ We don#39;t know why. Sometimes it just happens when elderly people have family who show no interest in them. We just try to make her as comfortable as possible.”

All the wonderful people and animals who blessed my life flashed in front of my eyes, and then they were gone.I felt what I imagined Katherine must be feeling:lonely,lost and forgotten.I was determined to find a way through to her.

Every Monday thereafter, Beau and I made our rounds20 to the hospitality room, stopping to make special visits in room 112 to visit Charlie and Emma, and in room 114 to sit with Katherine. Always the same response--Charlie waving us in and Emma patting the bed, waiting for Beau#39;s licks, both so alive. And then on to Katherine, sitting desolately21, no sign of life except for her shallow22 breathing.

Each visit I attempted to engage Katherine in conversation. No response. I grew more and more frustrated with Katherine, not content with just “ being” with her. Yet here was Beau, meditative23 dog-monk, teaching me how to “ be” and love quietly, assuming24 “ the position” for the fifteen minutes we sat at each visit.

On our fourth visit, I was ready to bypass Katherine#39;s room, but Beau had other plans. He pulled me into Katherine#39;s room and took his familiar pose on her left side,head on lap. I acquiesced25, but since I had a business meeting later in the afternoon with which I was preoccupied, I decided to cut short26 our usual fifteen minutes with Katherine to five. Instead of talking, I remained quiet, focusing inwardly27 on my upcoming meeting. Surely she#39;d never notice or care. As I stood up to walk out and began to pull Beau away, he wouldn#39;t budge28.

And then the most miraculous thing happened. Katherine#39;s hand went up to the top of Beau#39;s head and rested there. No other movement, just her hand. Instead of Beau#39;s customary response of nose nuzzling29 and increased body wagging, he continued to stand like a statue, never moving from his spot.

I sat back down in silent shock, and for the next ten precious minutes, reveled in the stream of life flowing between Katherine#39;s hand and Beau#39;s head. As the clock chimed half? past two, marking the end of our fifteen minutes, Katherine#39;s hand gently slid30 back into her lap, and Beau turned to walk out the door.

It#39;s been ten years since that visit and eight years since Beau died in my arms from a stroke. Love has many ways of showing its face. Each time I am ready to walk away from a person on whom I#39;ve given up, I am reminded of the power of Beau#39;s loving persistence with Katherine and with me. If Beau can give an extra ten minutes, surely I can too.

再待10分鐘

每星期一下午兩點鐘，我和博要去密爾沃基東北方向的銀泉康復中心，為住在那里的老年人進行一小時寵物治療。我們穿經過道來到接待室，一路上和每個人打招呼。在接待室，休養的人來撫摸博，沉浸在對這只漂亮幸福、10歲大、99磅重的德國種短毛獵犬的愛慕中。你們怎么也想不到，8年前就是這只狗被打得遍體鱗傷，出現在我家門階上，嚇得一見人就仰臥著，翹起腿撒尿，直到人們摸摸它，輕聲細語地安慰它，它才感到安全。

　　我們初次訪問康復中心，經過淡黃色的1號走廊時，我聽到從112號房間傳出一位老人帶有濃厚德國口音的激動的聲音。“瑪，瑪，那德國狗來了!那德國狗來了!”

　　話音未落，一位滿臉皺紋、6英尺高、白發瘦長的老人出現在門口歡迎我們，在門道他張開有力的臂膀，伸出大手，請我們進去。“我叫查利，這是我妻子，埃瑪。進來，進來。”

　　博聽見查利友好、熱情的聲音，它的身子立刻激動地習慣性地晃個不停，擺出要貼靠你大腿的姿勢，等著人們去撫摸它。查利立時滿足了它的'愿望。我們進了屋，看見80多歲、紫色頭發的埃瑪坐在床上，瘦弱但充滿活力；她面帶微笑，用手拍著床。她只需拍一下，拴著皮帶、向來順從的博就會跳上床，躺在她旁邊，舔她的臉。第二次世界大戰期間，他們倆從德國移民來美國時，不得不把心愛的德國種短毛獵犬馬克斯留在德國。查利對我們說這話的時候，埃瑪的眼中滿含淚水。據查利說，博長得簡直和馬克斯一模一樣。

　　隔壁114號房間住的是70多歲的凱瑟琳。幾個月以前她就開始不跟人說話了，近一個月坐在輪椅上，一直處于緊張性精神分裂狀態。對她的任何關心、摟抱、談心或坐著陪伴都打動不了她。我和博走進她的房間時，床邊的小燈亮著，遮陽窗簾拉著，她背朝著我們，低頭垂肩坐在輪椅上，對著看不到任何景色的窗子。

　　博套著皮帶拽著我走在前面。我還沒有來得及蹲在凱瑟琳身前，博已站在她的左側，頭擱在她膝上。我拖過來一把椅子，坐在她跟前，向她問好。她沒有反應。在我和博坐在那兒的15分鐘里，她一言不發，紋絲未動。這已經令人感到意外，可更使我吃驚的是博也一動不動。它站了整整一刻鐘，長下巴擱在她膝上。

　　你要是了解博，就會知道期待著愛撫的它哪怕10秒鐘也像了無盡頭。可這回不是這樣。它跟凱瑟琳一樣僵在那兒，頭粘在她膝上。與這個沒有生氣的女人在一起，我覺得很不舒服，希望這種尷尬場面快點結束。兩點半到了，鐘一報時，我匆忙說聲“再見”，站起身來，拉著不愿意離開的博走了出去。

　　我問一個護士為什么凱瑟琳會得了緊張性精神分裂癥。“我們不知道原因。有時候老年人的家人嫌棄他們時，他們會一下子得這種病。我們只能盡力使她感到舒適。”

　　我眼前中閃現著所有使我生活幸福的好人和奇妙的動物，他們一閃而過。我能感受到凱瑟琳現在的心情：孤單、煩亂絕望、被人遺忘。我決心尋找通往她心靈深處的途徑。

　　自那以后，每個星期一我和博照例去接待室外，還專門探視112號的查利和埃瑪，去114號房間陪凱瑟琳坐著。每次情況都一樣——查利揮手請我們進屋，埃瑪用手拍拍床等待博去舔她，兩個人總是那么高興。然后去凱瑟琳屋，她垂頭喪氣地坐著，除了淺弱的呼吸聲外，沒有一點生機。

　　每一次我都試著讓凱瑟琳聊天，可她始終沒有反應。我越來越覺得沮喪，不滿足于只是跟她待在一起。可是還有博，每次探訪，這只狗“和尚”就擺出姿勢“坐禪”一刻鐘，教我如何“陪”凱瑟琳及表示無聲的愛。

　　第四次去康復中心，我準備繞過凱瑟琳的房間，可是博另有想法。它拽著我進了凱瑟琳屋，跟前幾次一樣，在她左邊待著，頭擱在她膝上。我默許了，可是我心里想著當天下午晚些時候的商務會談，因此我決定把陪凱瑟琳的時間從往常的15分鐘縮短到5分鐘。我沒開腔，只是靜靜地坐著，思想集中在即將開始的會談上。凱瑟琳肯定不會注意我們提前結束，也不會介意。可是我起身要拽博走的時候，它卻動也不動。

　　然后最不可思議的事發生了。凱瑟琳的手抬到博的頭頂就放在那兒了。沒有別的動作，就是她的手。博既沒像平常那樣用鼻子蹭，也沒有越來越使勁地晃動身子，仍然紋絲不動，像塑像似地站在那兒。

我暗自驚訝，又坐了下來。隨后的10分鐘我感受著凱瑟琳的手和博的頭之間那種生命之源的流淌。時鐘敲響兩點半，說明我們的15分鐘到了，此時凱瑟琳的手慢慢滑落到膝上，博轉身走出房間。

　　那次探訪已經過去10年，8年前博因中風死在我懷里。愛有多種表現形式。每一次當我想要從我已對其絕望的人的身旁走開時，我就想起博對凱瑟琳和對我那始終如一的愛的力量。如果博能耐心再待10分鐘，那么我也能。