Sweet
is the dream, divinely sweet, when absent souls in fancy meet.
-Sir
Thomas Moore
Sweet
is the Dream
I had
a dream last night. Most likely sparked by a friend who spoke of a dream he
had of his dog who had died last year. I felt a twinge of envy at his dreaming
fortune. I used to have a rich dream life; now my dreams are sparse, vague,
and melt into fog sooner than my head leaves its pillow.
But
this morning I woke with a dream enveloping me, wrapping me in baby blanket
clouds of comfort. I was holding Gracious, my first whippet, who died in 2004
at age thirteen.
In
life Gracious was a strong spirit. She communicated with my dogdumb
disadvantaged self with a shattering eloquence. I knew when Gracious
was pleased with me, disappointed in me, when her life was good. She was not
called Her Royal Highness for naught.
Not
that she couldn't be silly. She could do "woozles" with the best of
them. Butt high in the air, head poking, retreating, snaking at a squeak toy,
then she would grab the toy, spin in dizzying, repetitive circles and then
take off in butt tucked zoomies only to throw the toy, pounce on it, and start
the game again. And then she would look at me, eyes afire with fun, and wag
her joy my way. And in its purity, in its honesty, that joy was infectious. A
person who could resist the spell of Gracious's joy was, well, this will sound
judgemental, but a human who was not affected by Gracious's generosity of
spirit was, quite simply, unworthy. Undeserving. Pitiable in their
selfishness.
Gracious
had the best memory of any dog - or human for that matter - I've ever
encountered. I nearly lost her at a dog event when she saw a person she had
lived with for a few weeks back when she was eleven weeks old. She was a
yearling at the time, and she saw her old friend and bolted to greet her. She
hadn't seen her for nine months, and had lived with her as a three month old
puppy for a couple of weeks, but she was a Special Person to Gracious for her
entire life. And I learned to hold on to Gracious's lead extra tight whenever
we were somewhere that Lesley might be.
I got
Gracious when she was six months old. I was her fifth home. After she had been
with me for three months, I went to see a faraway friend for a week. When I
returned, Gracious was nearly bald. Her hair had fallen out. I promised her I
wouldn't leave her again. And I didn't.
And
then there was Linda. All of my dogs adore Linda. Well, so do I! Gracious
bestowed the highest honor to Linda: she gave my dearest friend her one and
only puppy, Willow. And there was absolutely no question of her gift, or of
her pleasure and satisfaction at Linda's acceptance.
And there
came reunions of the highest order! Throughout Willow's life, at least once a
week Linda would drive the hour to our farm to visit and walk, and Gracious
and Willow would revel in the fantasticness of their reunification. Gracious
would greet her daughter, and thank Linda and share her glee and light would
shine in our small kitchen and we would every one benefit. It was a delicious
contagion; a warm smile erupts as I remember.
But
my dream this morning was of the quiet times with Her Highness. In life, when
Gracious curled next to me, that is, when it was her idea and I was deemed
deserving, she shared her deepest heart. Those of us who have completely loved
an animal know this sharing. If you haven't experienced this, if your dog is
tied to a tree out back, I could write a million words, yet you would not
understand, and I am sorry for you. And it was this, exactly this, in my
dream.
I
held her in my sleep as I had held her for thirteen years. There is nothing
quite so soft as a whippet's ear. Dreaming, I absently nuzzled her ear with my
fingers. I felt the warmth of her body in my arms. I felt her breathing. It
was so very real. I shared her heartbeat again. I embraced her spirit, and I
loved her. Finally. Again.
I
woke with a feeling of that contagious joy. I had tears, but they were tears
of great good fortune. It was a good dream.
Home
Contact us
Illinois Cocker Rescue
Aly Posner
P.O. Box 384
Harvard, IL 60033
Email: ILCockerRescue@aol.com
Website: www.ILCockerRescue.org
