Beetle and Mommy

Dear WEb,
If you look closely in the top left corner of the large photo of Phoenix that is beneath the title of this WEb Log, you will meet Beetle. She will be 10 years old on December 7th also known widely as Pearl Harbor Day. Beetle is fierce in her sometimes aggressive behavior towards other dogs, though she is getting better as she ages. She has been struggling for four years now with digestive absorption issues, so she is thinner than most dogs and stronger, actually. Being part Plott Hound (the state dog of NC who was bred to hunt bear) and Lab, she has intensity that is unmatched by many dogs I've known. She takes most everything very seriously!! Between the two of them, Phoenix most definitely had the sense of humor!

The other day in the car, Beetle spoke to me. I know, I know, there are those of you who think that is crazy projection. It might be. And...sometimes it just feels so real. Here's what she said quite matter of factly, "Mommy, do you wish it was me instead?" I knew immediately what she meant--do I wish she was killed instead of Phoenix? I immediately responded with what I thought she or any surviving sibling what want to hear, "No! Of course not..." As I began to babble on, I stopped myself--or maybe she stopped me, in my tracks. Tears welled in my eyes and I spoke the truth to this brave girl: "Phoenix was my Guardian. You and I have a different relationship. So, yes, I wonder why it wasn't you. But we never have a choice about these things." Bravely, she continued: "I can be your Guardian." And bravely I continued, "We are getting to know one another again. Let's see who we are."

Whew! I am so touched by the direct honesty of that exchange.

Since we have moved and Beetle has settled more into her place as "only dog," she and I have had some interactions that are new. We've sat together by the pond, laid in the grass together in the warm sunshine and walked our daily rounds. I've noticed how our calmness can feed one another--when I hear her sigh, I find my own breath deepening and vice versa. We have established routines in our morning walks that make me smile. She has grown to respond with eye contact when I say, "Look at Mommy." This is very important when I notice she's beginning to tense up around another dog or some uncomfortable situation. And, just tonight, I met a sweet Being in her as I planted bulbs on Phoenix grave site.

I sat at the site for a while. Beetle stayed in her fenced in area, even though she could have been free. I cried and talked to Phoenix for a while and Beetle watched. When it was time to begin, Beetle followed me to the shed to get my tools for raking and clearing the old growth. She happily followed me back and sniffed around the area. After I raked and cleared, she found some chestnuts and began to snack. I laughed at her and she wagged her tail, delighted that she was making me laugh. As I dug each of those 50 3"-4" deep holes, she began to get interested in the smells coming up from them. I wonder if she was smelling Phoenix and I envied her ability to be so close to him that way. She was very curious for a while and then...then she settled and laid down, just outside the rocks that marked the border of the grave. And she watched. She watched me place a bulb in each hole. She watched as I planted 50 promises and prayers for Phoenix. Beetle watched. Calmly. With intent.
When I finished, she followed me inside. Our work was done. For Phoenix. And for one another.

What is unusual is not once did Beetle wander off, which she is prone to do with such a strong nose. And, she did not pester me to throw something so she could fetch it. She was WITH me each step of the way. A companion. And I honor her as such. Relating is not easy for her. She doesn't really like to hug, definitely doesn't like to snuggle--it's not in her genes as a hound. I recognize that now. So, when there are moments of intimacy like this experience in the garden, Phoenix's garden, they are worthy of respect.

Thank you, dear Beetle, for surviving with me.
I do love you.
Mommy