I’ve come to see the farm as a kingdom for Flo, one of our barn cats. She sleeps on the porch, hunts in the meadow, and co-opts anything she wishes – the lawn chairs, the woodshed – for shelter or hunting grounds. This morning, the wooden bench on the lawn was her temporary throne, from which she looks out and surveys her kingdom. She has the whole regal bearing thing down pat. She is the Queen Of Bedlam Farm.
I’ve had had confusion for much of my life. When you get bald, hats matter more, to keep the sun and bugs off and the warmth in. I’ve worn a lot of baseball caps, but never really felt they were right for me. Maria never liked them either, and often makes faces where I wear them – Maria is not big on subtlety when it comes to the things I wear.
Walking down the street in Brooklyn the other day, I past a trendy hat shop and for some reason, went in. It is not the kind of place I normally browse. The hip and extremely gorgeous young salesman swooped down and pulled out a big brown hat, it was me, he said, and only only $170. I gulped, Maria is not subtle about insanely over-priced things either.
My eye landed on big blue slouch hat sitting over by itself in a corner and I went to put it on. The salesman didn’t say much.
“Well, I don’t know if it’s you,” he said, dubiously. “Look,” I said, “if I looked like you, I’d probably get the other hat. But this one is me, I think, it just speaks to me, it has some color, some style, it fits and will keep the sun off of me, I live on a farm upstate…”
And it did speak to me, I liked the style and feel of it and so I bought it. It cost $60, three times as much as a baseball cap but I will wear it until ti disintegrates on my head, I hope.
I think I may have found the hat I was looking for all of these years. “It goes look pretty good on you,” the salesman conceded as I headed out the door. I like it more every time I see it. So does Maria.
Pearl was one of my dogs once. I loved her and appreciated her.
So did my daughter, who launched a year-long campaign to take her to New York City, I could see that they loved one another dearly.
Ten years ago, seeing how close she and my daughter had become, I agreed to let Emma take Pearl, a two-time national champion whose rear legs muscles had to be replaced with titanium rods, to New York City, to Brooklyn. She has had the most wonderful life there, she and Emma are utterly devoted to one another.
Pearl became a fixture in their neighborhood, getting to Prospect Park several times a day, piling up friends and admirers, from doormen to dog lovers to dogs.
But things change, time moves on. Emma has her first child, Robin, and Pearl has hung on, defying all expectations about her life span, thriving under the wonderful care Emma has given her all these years. I could not have found a better home for her than with Emma.
Pearl is still beloved everywhere she goes, she is the sweetest and most patient of dogs. She represents the very best of a wonderful breed, and also the power of loving care. But her time is coming, it is difficult for her to walk much or navigate beyond her sofa and dog bed. She is loving and she still manages to follow Emma from room to room.
Wherever Emma is, Pearl is nearby.
I believe Pearl hung on until Emma came, and like all great spirit dogs, I imagine she will leave once things settle down. They come when we need them, they leave when their work is done. Pearl was a profound support to Emma during some of her difficult times in New York, and she is a faithful source of loving and support even now.
But looking into her eyes in New York yesterday, and her struggle to move much, and her growing confusion, I see that her time is close, there is love and acceptance and resignation there. She has, of course, completely accepted the baby as a member of the family.
She is ready to go, she is sad to go. I always think when I see Pearl that it is the last time I will see her again, but she defies expectations of her, as she always has. Still, none of us are stronger than life itself and I believe Pearl is preparing herself to leave Emma and end this most beautiful chapter in the history of people and animals.
Pearl has done such great work in her life, and has such a great and wonderful heart. It is Pearl’s time.
