Day: February 8, 2012

Change is eternal, forever, and loss and gain, like grief and love, are parts of the same thing. When a dog goes, as Rose has, the lives of the other dogs all change, as does our need for them. Dogs, like other animals, mirror our lives, mark our passages, reflect our emotions of the time.

My relationship with all of the other dogs has changed.  The same is true for Maria. Lenore is now my Ride-A-Long dog, she goes everywhere with me. One thing I love about my new health care practitioners is that they are all delighted when you bring a dog. Curiously, I don’t like to bring dogs everywhere I do. I’ve rarely done it, and I’ve never seen the need for it. Dogs don’t need to be everywhere. But Lenore is a dog  you can bring anywhere – massage, spiritual counseling, chiropractor, naturopath. She comes in, wags her tail, circles around, drops to the floor, goes to sleep. I find myself taking her everywhere these days – when I go shopping, look at possible new home. I’ve never really done this with a dog before.

Like Rose did, Lenore watches my shoes, and knows when I am going to the car or the pasture. She is very trustworthy.

Izzy has a new role also. Maria often brings him to the Studio when she is making her quilts, streaming pieces and potholders. He curls up quietly in a corner or under a table and is a quiet presence. He doesn’t bark or get excited when trucks go by. He and Maria are closer.

Frieda is happy in her role as protector of the farm. She sits in front of my study when I write. She patrols the front and rear yards. She goes with me when I take photos. She is ever vigilant, quieter, a wonderful and loyal and protective creature. She and I are closer.  In a way, all three are working dogs, in a different way than Rose. All three are calmer since she is gone. Lenore and Frieda sleep close to one another, which is new. Izzy likes the additional attention he can get. The three dogs all have clear and distinct roles. It is a very happy time for the dogs and for us in this way.

When a dog leaves us, a part of our life is rearranged. Dogs, like other animals,  mirror our lives.

Watching me. Always. What is there to compare to the loyalty of a dog?

A man came by the farm yesterday to check it out for a relative, who wants to buy a farm like mine. We went through the house and the barns, and then he turned to me on the path, and put a hand on my shoulder. Can I ask you something?. Sure, I said.

Why would you ever want to sell this place? I’ve been looking at properties up here for two years and haven’t seen anything near it – the view, the house the barns. It’s great. You put your soul into it. Why would you move?  You wrote all these books here.  You’ll never have a place like it, he said.

I was surprised, and then, pleased. I have put my blood and soul into the place, and it is great. But I told him the truth. I want a different life. I want a simpler life. A good place to write. A place for Maria to work. A good space for the dogs and donkeys, a good barn for hay and shelter. I am not sure he understood.

The realtor suggested I take a look at a place that is very different.  Maria and I went to check it out. I went back there by myself, to sit with Lenore, get a feel for it. A house, a cottage, two barns by the woods, near a river. It is so different. It is surrounded by trees, by forest. The horse pasture is now overgrown, but could be reclaimed. It is small, private, beautiful. I like it. We’ll see. Things are moving, I can feel it. Things are going to happen, and I am not in any way in control of them. And I like that. I don’t want to be in control, I’ve lost the appetite for that. But I am sure it is time to move. We are sure. I believe in rebirth and renewal. It is time for a New Bedlam Farm. Good space for the donkeys, and for the dogs.

This might be the New Bedlam Farm. You just do not ever know. Life is wonderful that way, crisis and joy and mystery, all just around the corner. She is not a meek person.

I have a whopping good and messy cold. I feel like an old dog bed.  Time to go to bed, before Maria catches me at the computer and brains me, as she has threatened to do.