Needless to say, animals are important to furries (duh
)
Do you have (or had) a special animal friend in your life? I'm not talking about animal totems (different thread), I'm talking about the animals you have gotten to know as individuals (such as pets), and what you love about them.
Let me start...
When I was fourteen years old, my mother took me to a farm out in the country, owned by a Mennonite family. We were going to get a dog, and the family had just had some puppies to give away. I remember it was dark, and I was overwhelmed when I was shown the puppies. They all looked the same under the low light- all small, poofy balls of fur looking up at me with large, liquid eyes. I still have no idea why I picked her up, why I chose her.
We said our goodbyes and went into the car. I remember the small puppy trembling against me in the car ride home. When we got home, the puppy was scared, curling up in a ball, her worried eyes examining the strange, scary world around her. I took her down to the basement and started playing with her, and she opened up. My older sister returned home, and the puppy ran right to her.
My sister would tell me years later that when she saw the puppy she was really angry. It was a younger-brat-brother-gets-everything-while-I-get-nothing moment, until she asked what I named the puppy. “I dunno,” I shrugged, “why don’t you name her?” My sister’s heart melted, and, as she told me, she really loved me at that moment.
She named the puppy Lucy. Maybe it is a boring name for a dog, but my sister would explain “She just looks like a ‘Lucy’.”
Lucy was a medium-sized mutt, a definite mix between a Golden Retriever and Shetland Collie, with red-brown and blond colored fur that was thick around her neck and shanks. She had an adorable half-circle patch of furless skin below her lower lip. She was a smart dog- she knew how to open doors, scratching with her paws until the knob turned then using her muzzle to open the door. She always did this when I would leave for school, but she would never open the screen door unless I urged her to- she always watched me walk away diligently. Whenever we would make our beds, Lucy had an odd obsession of jumping in between the blankets and sheets as they settled on the mattress, letting the sheet settle fall on top of her, then thrashing about to escape the entrapping sheet. She always did this with a smile on her face. My mother was annoyed at this habit, to the point she closed the door when she made beds, but my sister and I thought it was hilarious.
Lucy was a good friend through turbulent times. She was there when we lived at a secluded beach house along the coastal line, and she was the only friend I had for miles. We shared many adventures exploring the forests and the beach. When my father abandoned us, and we have to move from place to place, Lucy as with me no matter how small the accommodations. When we finally settled down in a house in suburbia, Lucy was with me for a few years until my mother decided it would be better for her to live on a farm than cooped up in a house. At the time I agreed with my mother, Lucy was used to a larger space and we were not doing well financially. A middle aged couple came one day and took Lucy. I do not remember their names, but they were delighted with her. Letting Lucy go would become something I, along with my sister and mother, would regret. We should have kept her, but we knew she was being taken care of and loved.
The last of my high school years went on without Lucy. I hate to admit it, but she slipped from my mind after a while. It was a turbulent time for me when I went through high school, my parent’s official separation, my father reconnecting with me, then abandoning me again after one year. I accepted that Lucy was out of my life.
Lucy made one last appearance in my life, during my first year of college. She was the farthest thing from my mind that day. I remember I had just finished writing two major essays before heading to bed. I dreamt I was walking at the side of a country road during a warm summer’s day. I could feel the heat radiating off the paved road, and hear the insects buzzing in the long grass that lined the ditches. I was approaching a cross section, when ahead of me, through the haze of heat, a dog appearing loping towards me. It was Lucy, but because of the weird nature of dreams, the way you are ignorant of real life circumstances, I totally accepted the fact that Lucy was there- all the guilt I felt about letting her go, and how much I missed her were all forgotten for the moment. I greeted her when we met, petting her head as she licked my hand. All as if I had seen her the other day.
I sat down on the ground next to her, and suddenly I was sitting on the front porch of our house by the beach, which I have not seen for years. Lucy sat peacefully beside me. It was something we did often during those turbulent times. Day and night seemed to go by in fast-forward, like a stop-motion movie. Then I was standing beside the country road again, Lucy at my side. With one last pat on Lucy’s head, I continued down the road. I only took a few steps until I realized Lucy was no walking with me. I turned to find her walking in the opposite direction, pausing once to give me a big-doggy-with-tongue-hanging-out smile, before turning and continuing on her way. It was at this time that I felt something strange- in a way, I knew I should be sad and upset, but I could not remember why. I struggled with my dream ignorance until a soft, white flare engulfed Lucy and ended the dream.
That morning I woke up the full meaning of the dream hit me. Was it possible that Lucy visited me, in some spiritual form, before moving on? I do not know. Lucy’s passing would be confirmed less than a year later when my sister had a chance encounter with Lucy’s last owners, who told her that Lucy did past away during my first year of college.
What I know is that the dream is important to me. It confirms that even if everyday life threatens to dull the things we cherish, enjoy, and love, there is always a place in your chaotic mind (your soul?) for the most important thoughts and memories, were they might be looked over from time to time, but never truly lost.
Lucy will always bear a special place in my memories.
