In the middle of an island, my
honey and me, it was heavenly, but alone it’s just a pretty place to be lonely.
With Kirt’s death not yet three months away, the dawn of realization that he’s
not coming back impacts differently. When he died it felt like a skyscraper
made of bricks fell down on my head brick by brick, smashing, hurting me.
I live in a cavern in the rubble
with my loving pack and bricks still hitting my head, but also moments of being
my old self. The weight of the now duller pain feels oppressive at times. I
know that if I don’t stay active, the open option of depression looms large.
There is a segment of humanity I
think of as “dog people” or animal people, if you will, we love dogs/animals
more than most. As a certified “dog woman” in good standing, I've spent the
last few years trying to discover where I could do the most good for the Puerto
Rican Island Dogs or “Satos,” as they’re known here. So far, I know what I don’t want to do.
Turning my home into a shelter is
out of the question; five dogs and no fence is insane enough for me, thank you.
After thirty years in the dog training among other dog related enterprises, I’d
rather not teach people, who can be so in love with their preconceived training
notions that they don’t hear what’s actually being said. We fall short in the
relationship department with dogs with few exceptions. Anyway, I’m sure there’s
a bunch of decent trainers.
Ultimately, I decided that the
animal activists here needed help raising funds. After a few false starts, my
first effort, Photo Day for Amigos de Los Animales came in as a decent success.
The pictures by Silver and Pixel that I saw were lovely, so we had happy
participants. Other than the manager of Bamboobei turning off the water in the
middle of the day, we had no problems; no, that’s not true, our venue, a
restaurant, decided to not serve food that day , but drinks were served late in
the afternoon, just another learning experience. All this kept me busy enough
to begin to blunt my pain.
Our next fund raiser, a party
scheduled in October at Bamboobei is cancelled lacking of venue. I’m grieving
not crazy. My next few weeks of focus on something else just flushed; what now?
Some are beginning to say things like: new
page, new chapter, new book. Those who encourage me are right, I need a new
life; how to begin again after my love story fails me.
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