vol. 5 issue 6. New Maps
Greetings,
If you read about my D List year, it won’t come as a surprise when I tell you I am now homeless. That’s not an admission meant to shock.
And if all goes to plan, it’s a temporary condition.
It’s hard for me to figure any homeless person could possibly be this lucky. I have comfortable temporary digs, plenty of options for dinner, an array of coffee shops to choose from including a patisserie (my personal weakness is butter), and a pleasant walk to a beautiful natural wonder of water where I sat today being greeted by what seemed was every single dog in this town, tugging its human along the shore.
To a one, each dog was happy. And that’s a lot of happiness, considering how many dogs I encountered. Tails wagging, tongues flopping, little legs like locomotive pistons propelling them forward. Or, long legs lumbering along, given the burdens of age, like arthritis or, as with Stella, cataracts.
Stella found me by the scent of my good fortune, I suppose; when she gently placed her sweet Pit Bull-mixed mutt face in my lap, her human informed me she is blind. And very old.
Stella, Latin for star. There in my lap.
Well, what a sweet thing you are, I told her.
Her human agreed. He elaborated: When everything goes wrong, Stella is there.
I thought about this. Was “everything” wrong in this man’s life? I looked at him sideways so as not to stare, but certainly to take in his full measure. There was sadness on his brow, furrowed, worried. A forced smile.
As can happen to me at times, unbidden, what might very well be the “thought” of the animal before me rang clear: He won’t do what he needs to do, and I can’t stick this out much longer.
Yes, I know dogs don’t “speak” English. But my brain does, and that is the genius of animal communication; it figures you out first.
Did the man need a lab test? To call someone? To force air through words stuck in his throat? To cry?
And then I got it: he needed to let go.
Oh, I thought. If you only knew how free I feel.
I imagined a small tide of acceptance washing over the man’s beached spirit. Maybe he let it carry him out to sea. Maybe he will sleep peacefully tonight for the first time in weeks.
It is likely I will never know.
I do know I had a star in my lap today. Everyone should be as lucky as me.
Peace,
Whitney
Sending you love, dear Whitney. xo