Big day yesterday. It didn’t start out as I hoped — lunch with a friend in Del Norte — but sometimes your body isn’t with the program, and mine is a little archaic to rebound instantly. 😦
I drove for the first time and the journey was out to see the dogs. Mary Lou, the woman working at Noah’s Arff yesterday, let Dusty and Bear out into the play yard and I stood by the fence with my walker (because the ground is pretty chewed up there). They ran to me and jumped up and there was much kissing. The arthritis in Dusty’s righ hip was more pronounced — perhaps because I haven’t been around him in nearly 3 weeks. Then, they had other and better things to do — most of all, they are happy. They were happy to see me, happy to play with each other, happy to see what the other dogs are doing. They are NOT pining for me.
You might think, “Dogs don’t pine,” but that’s not true. Anyone who’s seen Hatchi knows that. I’ve had three dogs who pined, one of whom, Molly, killed herself by sticking her head between two boards she thought were a fence trying to get out of a friend’s yard. She wanted to come home to me. Molly knew my friend, she’d been at this house many times and it seemed like a good place for her while I went to see my aunt in Colorado. But, it ended in one of my life’s saddest stories. 😦 Cody pined, stopped eating and wouldn’t move but lay in his pee and poop for two days when he thought I wasn’t going to adopt him from a shelter where he’d been for 3 months. I was adopting him; there was just a delay because of Sunday. Ariel threw herself on the floor of the vet’s office and howled bloody murder when she thought I was leaving her behind.
I’m really glad Dusty and Bear are NOT those dogs. I’m relieved that they’re happy. They’re going to stay at pre-school (ha ha) until after my doc visit on June 20. I’ll go get them on June 21 and I really cannot wait because I’m pining, but at least I can see them whenever I want to.
After visiting them, I decided to drive to the slough to see if the wild iris were blooming. They should be. My gallant steed (cane) and I headed up the dusty trail, slowly. Summer has arrived in the interval. There are leaves on the trees, birds singing everywhere, swallows swooping and water in the river. Wild iris, however? I don’t know. Maybe winter and spring were too dry for them this year.
I was hesitant to go too far on the trail. The ground is uneven and so am I; not a good combination, but then I thought that without the dogs, I can walk the beautiful paved trail around the lake across from Homelake Veterans Home. I can join all the other disabled veterans. They, of course, are veterans of wars while I’m just a general all-around veteran of stuff.
As I was driving home, my phone rang in my back pocket. “OH well,” I thought. I got home and saw it was my artist friend with whom I sometimes go to Taos. I called her back and learned she was in my town. She’d been in Creede — a small beautiful town to the northwest — all day where she has working hanging in a new gallery. She lives in Alamosa which is 18 miles east from me — not far but far enough that hanging out is seldom spontaneous. We had our conversation (there are people with whom you have ONE conversation and it’s great) and then she said, “Don’t hurry. You need to heal, for yourself and your dogs. Don’t bring the dogs home.”
I already knew I wasn’t bringing them home for a while, but I was glad to hear it from her. I was also impressed by my own self. Time was I didn’t listen to anyone. 🙂