AUTHOR: Sheri Lynch TITLE: Wolf Blitzer DATE: 12/22/2003 04:08:00 PM ----- BODY:

My friends Anne and Steve recently lost their dog, Wolf Blitzer. Wolf was a Sheltie, a great furry loveable dingbat of a dog. He was sweet and gentle, and completely clueless. Wolf was famous for a number of inexplicable and neurotic behaviors: barking frantically at smoke, for example. This particular habit led him to repeatedly scorch his nose on the grill, and earned him a permanent pink scar on his face. He was also a born lifeguard. The instant anyone entered Anne and Steve's pool, Wolf would run laps around the concrete decking, yapping furiously. So intent was he on maintaining safety that his pool patrols often resulted in scraped and bleeding paws. As for his watchdog skills, it's safe to say that burglars were welcome to come and take whatever they pleased, so long as they never left. Wolf hated goodbyes. He'd worn a smooth dirt path in the grass from one end of the driveway to the other, and he'd scamper back and forth, barking hoarsely as if to say, "Don't leave yet! The party's only just beginning!" Wolf Blitzer wasn't a genius; just a very good dog. He was Anne's thirtieth birthday present. It was the height of the Gulf War, and the furry-faced puppy was promptly named in honor of CNN's newest star: reporter Wolf Blitzer. But Wolf was more than a dog; he was practice for a baby. College sweethearts who'd seemingly been a couple forever, Anne and Steve were talking seriously about starting a family. I was thrilled for them, but a little sad too, knowing that Anne would soon go somewhere that I couldn't yet follow. As much as I wanted her to become a mommy, I also wanted her to stay Anne, my fellow wine-guzzling, bargain-hunting, product-of-a-broken home buddy. I remember the day she broke the happy news. We were working together in television then, and as she rounded the corner into my office one morning, her huge brown eyes sparkled with a secret. She was pregnant - and already glowing. I'd known plenty of women who'd had babies, but Anne's was the first pregnancy I'd ever really seen up close. I tormented her with questions, scrutinized her every move, and poked and prodded her as much as she'd allow. Pregnancy looked good on her - all shiny hair and suddenly fabulous nails. She set about sewing curtains and crib bumpers while Steve built a changing table, and gradually they carved out a space in their home for a baby. Their daughter Regan was born by c-section on January 8^th, and after calling first to make sure it was okay, I headed to the hospital to visit. It was early evening when I arrived, but already dark and cold outside. The room was dimly lit, Anne propped up in bed looking tired and pale. Steve hovered at her side. The baby was wearing a tiny pink cap, snugly wrapped and sleeping in a hospital bassinette. Anne commented on the excellence of her pain medication, proving that she was still herself despite having just given birth. But then Steve carefully scooped up the baby, who was much smaller than I could ever have imagined. Settling her into Anne's arms he said, "Come meet our baby girl." Seeing the three of them in that small puddle of light, I suddenly saw a family. Just like that, everything had changed. That baby is in middle school now. I'm on my second marriage, and am a mother of two myself -- three, if you count my stepson, which I certainly do. There have been countless changes over those years -- most of them for the better, which is a lucky thing. But Wolf remained essentially unchanged by time. A little pudgier, a little slower perhaps, but still the same old goofy dog. I knew though, that his days were drawing short when Steve told me on Thanksgiving that Wolf was at the vet for dialysis. When things deteriorated to the point that Wolf would lap water only from his old nemesis, the pool skimmer, Anne and Steve knew that it was time to do the hardest thing that is ever asked of anyone who loves an animal. And so it fell to Steve, who first brought Wolf home, to take him for a last and most heartbreaking ride. It's all such a blur, this grown-up life. It seems like last night was the 4^th of July, yesterday afternoon was Halloween, and is Christmas really just three days away? How can that be? My first baby now sleeps in a big-girl bed. My last baby is trying to crawl. And Anne's baby, once so impossibly new, is now eyeing high school, and driving, and boys. Somehow, we've all turned into real adults -- taxpayers, people with lawns, mortgages, and earlier bedtimes. If Wolf knew that he was being used for parent practice, he never minded. There was smoke to chase and swimmers to herd. And days and days to trick all of us into thinking that time could stand still, even if he couldn't.

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