Thelma is gone
She died sometime during the night
I was not surprised
Right before I attempted sleep
around 11 pm
I texted Chad
on the other side of the house
to share with him an epiphany I’d had
I was on the toilet when it came to me
Thelma had been sick for nearly a year
Three vet consults but no conclusive diagnosis
On the toilet I remembered yet again
something I have often forgotten
I saved Thelma’s life already
Twice
First when I found her
tossed in a bush
by the side of the road
Alongside her sister Louise
They were just weeks old
Like a pair of hitchhikers
Louise came out first to woo me
Louise all chocolate with golden eyes
The “pretty sister”
Louise all wags and love me love me love me
Thelma was a hard case
From the moment I finally spotted her
Hidden deep in the brush
Suspicious
Growling
And who could blame her
Seeing as the last human she’d known
Just dumped her
Once I got them both in the truck
I started crying
And I did not bother to even pay lip service
To the idea I might find them a good home
Beyond the one I had to offer
Louise is
As I write this
Lying at my feet
I’m not sure if she has yet realized
That the body of her sister
Curled into her wooden oval dog bed
Is still now
No more
We—the living dogs and I
are all sprawled out
Me shocked wide awake
By death
waiting for sunrise and
For the crematorium to open
The other dogs
The living dogs
Carrying on with their snoring
They seem to know instinctively what
I had to be taught
Death is not an emergency
This idea was presented to me
In words
But really it is living at a ranch
That either drives the lesson home
Or drives you off the ranch
This place is teeming with life
And consequently
It is strewn with death
I’m sitting here exhausted
Examining my mind
A lifelong habit too old and stubborn to break
I must analyze everything
My first boyfriend told me once
That he’d hate to be with me in an emergency
That I would suck at emergencies
I don’t know why he said that
Or if it was his words that brought about this truth
I am great in emergencies
Trust me
If you are having an emergency
I am an excellent person to have by your side
And even though this moment is
Not an emergency
Because Thelma is gone now
And she is not coming back
Still I observe the thoughts
And note that pragmatism arrives
The clock tells me we are in the
4 am hour
I know I have guests coming soon
and then
After that
A wedding
Not just any wedding but
The wedding of a good friend
My brain tells me that if I do not get proper sleep
I will be haggard this evening
So I try to make myself sleep
And as I lie there not sleeping
I recall that it was seven years ago
Nearly to the day
That a tornado ripped across the front yard
And took out twenty-six trees
In the middle of the night
And it was terrifying
After it was over
I crawled back into bed
and told myself
“You have a wedding today
You have to be rested”
Of course then, as now
I could not sleep
But I remember distinctly
A glorious sound arriving
Just before the sun
The Dawn Chorus
All those mighty trees uprooted
And somehow hundreds of tiny birds
Mere ounces
Had survived
How did they do that?
Oh they were singing that day.
I am sitting here
Too early for the dawn chorus yet
And I am smelling the smell of death
Metallic liquid shit
Barely disguised by the bleach
I splashed everywhere
When at last I admitted to myself
I wasn’t going to fall back asleep
Thelma is right over there
Still and wrapped in a thrift store quilt
Today is Holy Saturday
Of course it is
My soul dog Bubbles
Another street dog
Arrived in my life on
Holy Saturday 2000
I wanted to call her Jesus
But my son overruled
My so-called father died on
A Holy Saturday
And I’d be lying if I said
It wasn’t one of the happiest days of my life
And I remember briefly wondering if
He was trying to get one last dig in
Dying like that
On the Gotcha Day Anniversary
Of the best dog I have ever known
Adaptability is said to be
A sign of intelligence
If that’s true
These last ten months
Have defined me as a genius
I am thinking about
Every one of you who is or has
Cared for
A sick child
A sick parent
A sick spouse
A sick friend
A sick pet
Every one of you who is saying
Or has said
I don’t know how long
I can keep doing this
And then
Kept doing it
I will spare you the specifics
Of how I adapted to Thelma’s disease
I will hint only at the routine
Which wore me out
But I kept doing it
Constant cleaning
All those pee pads
Lily white at night
And then
In the morning
Looking like Jackson Pollock
Swung by instead of the Easter Bunny
And left those floor canvases
Splattered in brown stench
Pragmatism floats in again and
As when Norris died
(December 23, 2022)
I observe my mind
Thinking
Well things just got
Quite a bit easier
And then
Am I wrong to
Feel the relief
That sometimes (often)
Accompanies the end?
I am grateful for my
Porcelain Throne Epiphanies
I am so sorry she is gone
But I did not fail her
(I hope)
I saved her
Twice
Her suffering is done now
I think about
The Lessons of Thelma
And I think about
That saying about how
When we find ourselves annoyed
By another
Perhaps it is because
They are reflecting back to us
Something in ourselves we dislike
Thelma was a hard case
My difficult child
And I realized at some point
I was raising my voice at her
More than with the others
As (it seems)
The adults had tried
To control little hard case me
With their shouts
(As if)
I made a note then
To change
Adapt
I did not always get it right
But when I did
When I caught myself
About to yell
Instead I looked into her eyes
(As, I now understood
I wished the grown ups had
Looked into my child eyes)
Belly Belly Belly
I said
Belly Belly Belly
And she would
Stop whatever it was
That was
Driving me crazy
And she would
Expose that belly
And I would rub it
And we would both feel better
Last night
I begged her to eat
I sugared her water
I told her what
I tell all my dogs
Most especially when
I sense they are
About to go
You’re home
And
You’re safe
Because in the end
Another truth
Prevails
We give our beloveds
The gifts we wish for ourselves
I have chased the dream
Of feeling
Home
And
Feeling safe
For sixty long years
And the closest I
Ever get
Is when I am under
A pile of dogs
Thank you Thelma
Good girl
Belly Belly Belly
I love you
Thank you. I’m here crying in a heartbroken spot. I knew yesterday when I came home and she didn’t get up that the end is near for my soul dog, Ginger. I need to schedule our goodbye for today. And I know that life will go on and there will be relief. And still it hurts so terribly. All the things can be true at once so I’ll cry.
Such a beautiful reflection on the life and love you shared with Thelma. I am crying for all of the loves I have shared and lost. Take care of yourself and the pack today. It is a holy Saturday indeed.