On Dogs

We had two dogs. One died of cancer over a year ago. One died a couple weeks ago. We have been away a couple of weeks.

On the way home from our trip I am thinking that I won't see the reflection of my dog's eyes as we pull in the driveway. After dark she would worry, as we were not in our place. It was a great relief to her when we were all in our places.
In the morning I wake and my first thought is to take the dogs out, as I have done for 14 years. No need. I think about the morning release. When I worked I would walk the dogs around the yard before they came in for biscuits at 5:30 in the morning. I would see a million stars while the dogs inspected the night activity in the yard and think of my student Ida, who also walked her dogs at 5:30 in the morning. That was in Virginia. In Maine. I sometimes walked with them, sometimes not. They liked it better when I did. In the end, the last dog Zoe, didn't walk much but she liked to be outside. She would rather be outside than anything. She had her favorite spots, under the bush, in the shade beside the drive, on her bed in the garage.
She was a dog of many names. She came to us as Zoey. She became Zoe, Zoebeezy, Beezy, Zoebina, Beaner, ZZ,  In the winter she was Snow Zoe. For walks, a Go Zoe. She seemed to respond to them all and we certainly responded to her.
She was a quiet dog- very private. Probably the shyest dog we ever had. She watched, she participated but she did not like to be too fussed over. That was her sister's role. She gave center stage to her sister, Cassie. When Cassie died a big spark left Zoe. In that way I took some comfort when she died. I hope, if there is a God, that he unites dogs. Imagining Zoe and Cassie together is a happy thought. They could really get into major mischief. Zoe would have really appreciated that.
We would plan our day around the dogs. If you have a dog you know what I mean. What time will they be walked and where. If you go to the movies, how will it affect dinner time? If you take a trip what do you do with the dog? Planning and scheduling around this member of the household was a major operational activity. That will no longer be the case.
My dog is settled in my mind like her big body inhabited the bed. A warm body of shiny hair hoping that you will not move and make her have to shift to accommodate or worse yet, leave the bed. Zoe took over the guest room bed and even in the end would find a way to make it up the stairs to have her bed. She lay across it like the Furry Maja [for reference- see here Goya, Maja] and was imminently snuggleable. She liked a good snuggle and for the morning greeting -and snuggle- would also have a lovely smile that she would keep on her fuzzy dog face.
Towards the end walks were slow, painstakingly so. She was Slow Zoe.  So you plan for it, accommodate it, heartbreak over it, knowing that the end was on the visible horizon.
The bottom line was that she was a really good dog. She came to us with no little amount of baggage. We got two dogs as there were two of them together at the shelter and we knew they liked each other. What is unadmissable at the time is that two is twice as hard to lose. They brought great joy, much laughter and many stories. Having an empty house is living with ghosts of love.
They will be missed and are irreplaceable.

On blogs

I woke up this morning thinking of blogs and writing. It occurred to me that blogs are like high school notebooks. You save them on a shelf because you have invested so much time in that particular class. Or because you like that teacher, or because on the last day of that year the last thing you care about is going through the notebook- back to the back of the shelf- Fwap.
Months or years later, when you go through them, pieces of your life open like cured meats some sweeter, some salty, dense with flavor and somewhat smoky, or conversely, bland, flavorless and forgettable. Why not a jewelry box comparison? Most thoughts are rarely jewels. Interesting, perhaps -but not extensively the object to hold up to the world like the Hope Diamond. Bloggers write for themselves. Like a high school notebook.
I don't think it is self indulgent to blog- you read that it is- any more than writers are self indulgent. Think of how many writers that have never been published. Most I am sure, still write. Writers write because they need to. Does it make them less of a writer not to be published? Blogs are places to keep  thoughts, like high school notebooks. Maybe they will be read and maybe they are curing for future consumption.