UPDATE: We’re going to see all three “blond” puppies (2 females and one male) on Saturday. Wanna bet on us coming home without one?
So very much has happened over the past few days, during which I have pretty much been in a fog and struggle to figure out what day it is.
We waffle and second-guess, sometimes hot and sometimes cold: we should take some months to move beyond Tsuga, so we don’t subconsciously make the impossible comparison of a new, younger, untrained animal to our finished product and best friend in Tsuga. We should wait until after winter. We must have a dog immediately because the emptiness is becoming an abyss and we could have one trained by summer if we start now. Let’s just not get another dog, ever; they are too much heartbreak.
Some–many–of you know the push and pull of thinking ahead, while trying not to stick your tongue too often in the empty socket just to be sure the thing is really gone. It is, and it isn’t, and get used to it. Even so, you try to do the next thing, pretend you’re stronger than you are, and vacillate between peaks and troughs and try to imagine paper training all over again and wonder which of your favorite shoes will be chewed up this time.
These pups we just learned about last night. They are lab-shepherd mix and in Hillsville. We have expressed a genuine interest, and think this might be the right thing at the right time. I’m sure, if we go this way, we’ll be momentarily convinced we made a mistake during the first sleepless nights, at the first flagrant defiance, at the seeming disconnect and asymmetry of love and affection that we will feel already, but the new pup will have to accept and return, eventually.
It struck me powerfully yesterday that the thirty years that connect Zachary’s birth and Tsuga’s passing contain a hundred wonderful stories of place, of relationship to family and critters, and a memoir of a life made complete by the bond between a man and a labrador retriever. I think I would really enjoy pulling that together and sharing widely.
So I’ll be looking at pdf format that can be e-reader viewable–full of pictures and all the stories about our animals that are already in Slow Road Home and What We Hold In Our Hands, on the blog going back to 2002, and still in our minds and hearts, untold.