I am convinced Jack, of beanstalk fame, must have been lived in the Pacific Northwest. Last night the surrounding the forest was cold, black and foreboding. The stuff of fairy tales. Winter’s starkness lurked in the barren branches. However, this morning as the alarm sang out I squinted as sun streamed in. I looked out the window to see vibrant green leaves decorating the trees.
Filled with hope and good dose of vitamin D I brewed a pot of coffee and looked at my mail. There amongst the bills and usual stuff was a note from an old friend.
Dawn keeps me updated on your life I hope you are all doing well out there. Let us know when you come back home for a visit!
I wanted to let you know about Lucy the black lab mix you rescued. When I took her from you 4 years ago, I never knew how important she was going to be. Initially, Adam and I thought it would be a good idea to get my mom and stepdad a younger dog so that when their old dog died, they would already have a replacement. The dogs didn't get along too well at first, but eventually, Lucy would guide Andy through his blindness and look out for him on walks. My parents put Andy to sleep 2 years later and enjoyed Lucy even more because she became the one and only dog! I think Lucy is happiest this way as well.
Last summer my stepdad had a massive stroke in the front yard and fell. He barely lived 5 more days while on life support in the ICU at UCLA. On August 9th we took him off the machines so he could die peacefully. Of course everyone came and filled up the house for months so that my mom wouldn't be alone. When they all left she realized that although she still misses her husband of 22 years dearly, she is not alone because of Lucy.
She talks to Lucy, walks Lucy, drives her to the groomers once a month, walks her to the vet's clinic down the street to weigh her (she's on a diet), and treats Lucy as her closest family member.
I just wanted to thank you for such a wonderful dog. Lucy is the reason I don't feel bad about my mom being home alone all the time. Some mornings she is the reason my mom gets out of bed.
When I think of you, pilgrims and ass jokes fill my head. We miss you!
(Henry with Lucy and me with Ricky - We found them near our church, St. Bernardine's we took them in looked for their owners and then sent them to the pound for a while, but when no one claimed them - we took them until we could find them homes. Ricky went to an Alzheimer facility in Calabasas-)
I sat for a while thinking back to Lucy and the day Henry and I found her and her pal Ricky. It was during a heat wave in August. The temperatures soared in the triple digits. The two wayward canines were panting in the heat and searching for water. Their paws burned from the searing pavement.
The whole family got involved in their rescue. Lisa who was working at Warner Center Pet Clinic, neutered Ricky and did dentals on both of dogs. And so little Lucy wouldn't confuse with the hunch back of Notre Dame, she removed a ginormous three pound mass from Lucy's shoulder. Pro bono.
Henry had begged to keep Lucy, but I couldn’t possibly imagine having any more pets - after all we had two dogs and a cat.
I remember Mike saying to Lucy as he scratched her behind the ears, “You know, you and and I have a lot in common,” he’d theorized.
“Really? How do you figure?” I'd asked from the kitchen.
“Well, we’re both strays you took in and watch out for,” he’d laughed.
It was still so early in the morning it was rude to call anyone, but Mike. I picked up the phone and read him the letter about Lucy, tears filling my eyes. It was nothing short of magical.