I just finished the first draft of my book “Frieda and Me: Second Chances,” due out from Random House in 2013 (next year is my short-story collection focusing on women and dogs, “Dancing Dogs,” due out in October). I was recalling in one chapter the point at which I nearly gave up on her, and took her to the Adirondacks to try and figure out her past.
That night, I had a dream. I was walking in the Adirondacks, deeper and deeper into the cold and dark woods, and when I finally came to a clearing, Frieda was sitting in the moonlight, waiting for me, looking into my eyes.
There I nearly broke down in frustration and approached her and asked her, “what do you want from me? What will it take to reach you?”
And, in the dream, she met my gaze and said nothing but I heard her message so clearly it could have been spoken by a human. She said simply, “trust me,” and that was all. That was Frieda’s message.
I backed off writing Simon’s Journal, because I wanted to shift my focus of him from a piteous rescue creature to whatever it was he might evolve into. I’d like to resume the Journal, because Simon’s role and personality are emerging, and I hope to write a book about mercy and compassion, using him and his story as the narrative thread.
Animal rescue is obvious a worthy thing and there are any number of “rescued” creatures on the farm – a donkey, a chicken, two dogs, two barn cats. As I have written, I am sometimes uncomfortable about the growing tendency to view all animals, especially dogs, through the prism of abuse and rescue. It is sometimes – surely not always – exploitive, I think, about the human looking good and feeling angry, self-righteous or superior.
I think Most dogs in America live good lives beyond the wildest dreams of their predecessors – something there are few books about – and if we can hate humans for the way they mistreat animals, perhaps we can love them for the ways in which they treat them well. Simon has, in fact, shed the role of the abused creature near-death and it is something that rarely comes up in our view of him. His belly has filled, his coat has grown, his teeth are good, his eyes are brown and alive, his legs need some work but are coming along.
We are crazy about Simon. He is not only internationally famous and popular, he has become one of the central personalities on the farm, perhaps it’s most fitting symbol. First off, he is a riot, greeting Maria and I with joyous brays when we appear. He has a lot of personality. He is unbelievably affectionate, running over to us to get his head patted, to commune or cuddle, to sniff a pocket, to hang out. He loves to walk with me, sit in the barn, be read to and talked to. I swear he listens. I love him and I love spending time with him. He is too smart – opening barn doors, feed cans, slipping out of gates unlatched. He is gracious and tolerant of Lulu and Fanny, who are as the farrier predicted,”The Queens,” and “Simon is Simon.” He loves people and is easy with children (though not yet with dogs.)
He is understanding his name, and some commands – “let’s take a walk,” “beat it,” “get out of the barn.” More on that later.
Simon reminds me that animals do not consider themselves abused or neglected, but adapt, move on, seek affection, attention and food. I do not consider him abused, and it wouldn’t matter to him if I did.It seems to me that humans sometimes cling to those labels for the benefit of things that have nothing to do with animals. If animals don’t forgive and forget, they sure forget. You would think – most people do – that Simon was born on the farm and lived her his whole life, he is so at ease and confident.
If our relationship was born out of rescue, that is barely a shadow now, in his life or in my own sense of him. So I’m re-starting Simon’s Journal in a different place and from a different perspective. On the book tour I will sure miss that bray.
This is a turning time for Maria and for me. I’m sitting on the porch writing by the glow of my laptop, Frieda on one side Lenore on the other, border collies circling. I hear owls and coyotes. The dogs always know when something is up, and I’m sure in their own way they recognize a book tour by now. I get edgy, distracted, phones ring, overnight mailings arrive, suitcases and bags appear and the atmosphere changes. Frieda is a remarkably sensitive dog, and she misses nothing. She is hanging close. There is a lot happening here.
Maria is also in a turning time, a couple of weeks away from an art show – the Pig Barn Art Gallery Show October 8-9 that marks an enormous evolution for her, and a very significant one. She did not imagine a few years ago that she would be doing her art again, and showing the work of nine gifted artists on the farm in a barn.
We went to dinner the other night and got into a fight about which event we were celebrating – my new book or her new show. We each tried to pay. She won, as is usual. We both remembered Patty, a Tarot Card reader in Brattleboro and a friend, telling us that if we shed the baggage we had been carrying around for years, we would have great creative leaps and accomplish significant things. We drank to that. We both have taken risks and found great rewards – not the least being one another. We are on the same path, and on it together.
At dinner, I said it was so important to have creative risks to mark and celebrate. Life itself.
I told Maria that I think most people – most days – fall into two categories. People plant seeds and nodules, either of fear or of life. They bring one or the other, in their stories, messages, presence. That is the choice we all make each day, often more than once. There are people who bring fear, darkness, illness, warnings and conflict. And people who bring life – hope, heart, light, encouragement and promise. The choice is which of these people to surround yourself with and listen to.
If I believe the people bringing fear, than that is how I will live, because they will reach inside of me and open up the parts that do not move to farms, seek love, take risks, write books about animals and grieving. I have no idea if these choices are good or wise – nobody knows that in their lifetime – but my spiritual work has made it much clearer which way I want to go. Maria feels the same way, and boy, does that make a difference.
So it is a turning time for us, and we are shedding baggage and taking leaps. If everything crashed around us, I said, I would not regret taking the plunge. We drank to that.
Well, I’ve never a book signing like that before. Signed books and videos for four hours this afternoon, and we barely made a dent. Got to go back at least a couple more times, and we got a slew of orders while I was there. I had a blast taking phone calls from some of my readers – England, Florida, Texas, Indiana, California, to name a few and it was very touching, very sweet to talk to people who have been following my work, love Simon’s bray, have favorite dogs, photos, books. It felt good to be a writer though my hand will need to therapy by the time this is over.
My ego is good, though. Connie Brooks of Battenkill has gotten nearly 400 pre-orders for signed, personalized copies of “Going Home,” official pub date tomorrow. We filled about 20 crates from the Post Office, but I starting to see things, so Maria told me to beat it and get home. So I did.
But it was nothing but a great day for me, and for this great independent bookstore. Thank you all so much. The offer is still good – signed, personalized books and videos – some of the inscriptions were pretty detailed, which is okay by me – if you call 518 677-2515 or e-mail Connie at [email protected]. Some of the inscriptions – I will sign anything people wish that fits – were very beautiful, very poignant. Connie will ship all over the world. I’ll be back there on Wednesday and several times more. Tomorrow, I am talking and signing at Barnes &Noble, Colonie, N.Y. (Albany, 7 p.m.). Connie says rest up. We haven’t even gotten to the multiple orders yet.
But pub date is six hours away. I am eager for this book to get out. It will help people, I think, and I am eager to talk about it. And I sure like selling all of these books. My aim is to hit the New York Times Bestseller List for the second time this year, a nice hat trick if I can pull it off. I think I might.
