Month: May 2018

For a little dog, Gus left a long shadow. We think of him often, we smile every time we think of him. He has inspired me to learn about small dogs and write about them, and he has inspired Maria and I to get another Boston Terrier from Robin Gibbons, Gus’s breeder.

In recent weeks, I have been talking to my editor – editors don’t talk to writers much these days, unless it’s about puppies – and we agreed to change my next book, The Lessons Of Bedlam Farm, and change the title and focus.

The book doesn’t  have a new title yet, we are re-working the structure to focus on Gus, his life and death, on my efforts to heal him, and also on the next puppy we hope to get from Gus’s mother Hannah.

So I’m re-converting my book around Gus  and what we hope will be an uplifting and hopeful end to this story when we get our new puppy in September, if all goes well.

We think she is pregnant, we will find out for sure on June 13, when she gets an ultra-sound at the Cambridge Valley Vet. Robin has invited me to come along.

Some dogs – Rose, Red, Orson, Lenore, Frieda – are like this, they cast a long shadow, longer than themselves.

They are spirit dogs, they come and go and mark the passages of our lives. They come when they are ready and needed, they leave when their work is finished.

A shaman once told me that when spirit dogs die, they go home, to a land filled with blue and shining lights on a hill by a stream. I believe it. They wait to be called to another person, another family, another home.

I call these dogs Lifetime Dogs, they mark our lives in a particular and transformative way. They shape our lives rather than simply slipping into them. Rose helped me  survive on the first Bedlam Far, Lenore kept love alive, Red guided me into my therapy work, Gus brought joy and laughter into our hard-working home.

Taking care of Gus when he was sick was a transformative experience. For awhile there, I thought I could save him. I learned much about love and limits, I learned once more to respect life. We don’t get to choose who lives and dies.

I can’t wait to see what this new dog bill bring to me and to us. I can’t say yet that Hannah is pregnant, you can never know the future, but I feel good and strong about it. And I look forward to writing about it in this book, Gus will be the main figure. It will be published sometime in the next year.

I see his shadows almost every day.

Flo is the perfect combination of murder and love. She hunts through the night leaves pieces of dead things for us by the back door each morning. And with me, she is a shameless flirt. She hid in the woodshed for a year or two before she showed herself to us, and then worked on me for another year to let her in the house, which I do in the winter.

This time of year, she is delighted to be outside. But whenever I come near, she rolls over and shows her belly and tries seduction. And it always works. She is the first cat I have truly loved.

You may remember Saad, he once worked for the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad during the Iraqi war, then started a successful business in Baghdad, which was appropriated by the government in its war with religious extremists.

A few years ago, he was targeted by terrorists and had to flee the country to a United Nations  camp. He had to leave his wife and family behind. He made his way to Los Angeles, but without any family or resources, could not afford to live there. Friends drove  him to Albany, where, penniless he shared a room with another refugee.

He was often hungry and cold, and showed up at RISSE, the refugee and immigrant center, shivering in a spring jacket. Two weeks ago, we paid for a deposit and first months rent in a clean and safe one-bedroom apartment outside of Albany. Saad loves the apartment, but was totally cut off from his family and culture, he is the only person in a huge apartment building who speaks Arabic.

With your help, we helped him settle in. We got him an Iphone 6 in a sweet trade-in deal, we brought him a new 32 inch cable TV, prints and paintings for the walls, groceries, a cable connection  so he can watch Arabic channels, and a fan. And this week, our final gifts, a spring jacket from L.L. Bean and two books of Arabic short stories, and two Arabic-English dictionaries, one illustrated.

So now he can read, talk on the phone or watch TV  in his apartment. You are an American now, for sure, I kidded.

He left eight children behind in Iraq, now he can cal them whenever he wants. He loves Facetime.

Saad wants you to know how much he appreciates this support, he says he wants to make it on his own now, and can. Despite some serious illnesses – heart disease and diabetes – he wants to work. He wants to pay his own way.

We have moved on to some other needy cases.  Hawah, who was living in a homeless shelter a little more than a  week ago,  is moving into her new apartment on Thursday, I hope to be there. We are still talking to landlords, looking for the right apartment for Amranaso. She was tortured by the Syrian Army in Iraq before escaping to Turkey, where she nearly died crossing the mountains alone.

We are working this week to pay down or pay off some debts she acquired so she can have a clean start when we find her an apartment. She has a job.

 

I went over to the Mansion today on a het patrol to bring shorts to Wayne, and summer pajamas to four of the Mansion women. It was warm in there, this week, the Mansion can finally turn off the heat, according to state regulations. Joan was in the hallway waiting for me, and I asked her to dance.

She agreed and we danced in the hallway, Joan is always up for fun, always has a smile, always joins in every possible conversation, even when she can’t follow it. She is a pleasure to talk to. We have the best time, I told her she was a “wild child,” and she said “of course, we all are, aren’t we?”

So today was a day for small acts of great kindness.

Some of the Mansion female residents are struggling to stay comfortable in their winter pajamas. I got some light and brightly colored ones, four pairs. Wayne also needed some track shorts to stay cool and move. He loved the three I gave him. Tomorrow, six cushions for the rocking chairs outside on the porch are coming.

Some sore bottoms from sitting out on the porch, the cushions will help, a good Mansion day. Joanie and I had a blast shaking things up. Sylvie needs some pens, I’ll get some tomorrow.

You can write to the Mansion residents c/o 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, NY., 12816. Here’s the new ever-evolving residents list (for those who wish to get mail):

Bob, Alan, Winnie, Joan, Art, John D., Alanna, Peggie, Ellen, Joan, Brenda, Jacqueline, Sylvie, Alice, Madeline, Mary, Blance, Bill, John K., Diane, Helen, Dottie, Doris, Ruth, Kenneth,  Gerry, Guerda, Wayne, Matt.

I love pansies and their attitude. Perhaps because they are the front line in the Spring, and have to endure cold and certainty, they are tough and outspoken. They are flowers with attitude, and I love being able to photograph them again, it was a tough winter.