Adopted

“Love purifies. Suffering never purified anybody; suffering merely intensifies the self-directed drives within us. Any act of love, however—no matter how small—lessens anxiety’s grip, gives us a taste of tomorrow, and eases the yoke of our fears. Love, unlike virtue, is not its own reward. The reward of love is peace of mind, and peace of mind is the end of man’s desiring.” —Harper Lee, Vogue, April 1961 

A few months ago I was ambushed by what I came to call the Little Yellow Dog Gang. Racing around the corner and straight at me were three dogs, one yellow, one black, one red-brown. Exuberant. As if I was their long-lost favorite human in the world. Much jumping commenced, and I sat down so they could breathe me in and lick my face. Petting ensued.

This continued for several weeks: me, completely surprised by their sudden appearance; they, delighted to see me again. We usually spent a few minutes together, and then I continued on my way to wherever I was going, and they frolicked with the diesel shop guys.

One morning, on my way to the swimming hole, they followed me. For miles. Over a wild, rocky hill and down to the bouldery beach. They were hilarious, tearing off after rabbits and birds, sniffing everything, play-fighting amongst themselves. It was a grand day out, and was repeated throughout the week.

Worry and Attachment raised their weary heads. Traffic! Coyotes! Thorns! Are they thirsty? hungry? I bought treats and a collapsing water bowl and carried them every day, along with my swim gear. I protected them from mean yard dogs, and they watched over me while I swam. It was lovely. And I found myself weeping in the shower, singing Chris Isaak. Oh, I… don’t wanna fall in love.

Too late.

Books:
Diary of a Reluctant Traveler: 15 months on the road from coast to coast to coast—solo
Sea Change: stories & splashes
Shoulds are for Saints: the true life adventures of Suzy Le Speed
Dance First …ask questions later: poems & paintings