dog day summer bum

in 2021 i rented a car and drove a great pyrenes to maine. i found him at a bar in new orleans attached to someone self-identified as a cat person. i had just lost ted (RIP TED) months before and thought maybe i was going to keep this fluffy, gentle, giant. tony. i named him tony because i was on my third or fourth rotation of rewatching sopranos during covid isolation times. i was also not feeling incredibly creative. he was my first but not last foster dog.

i discovered through x-ray that the limp in his back leg was caused by an injury described as a “crush bone that healed”. as a person who lives daily with a broken bone that is healed (see right pointer finger) i felt his pain surviving neglect and coming out the other end too late to reset the bone. this limp, his coat, and size made new orleans a difficult place for him to thrive. we were put in touch with an amazing woman in maine who had recently lost her dog that was interested in receiving tony.

i had never been to maine before. i sort of recoil at the northeast and the attitudes of people from there vs. the south. they think they are better. their schools, their homes, their way of life. recycling that works, clean water, no fracking. that’s all my fronting though. i do this to protect myself from being open to change. if i judge harshly and stay opiniated i don’t have to be open to changing my perception. i think it is just one of the on-going wonders of a long-term dysregulated nervous system obsessed with protection.

the air was beautiful, the rocks on the cliffs were different than the same ones i had seen on the west coast. she showed me how to eat a lobster and tony ate the exoskeleton while we drank brandy and talked about her life as a baltimore school teacher- the years she sailed with her husband and the untimely death of her gay son. she took me in like a child and i wept at her generosity and kindness. she asked me to stay longer but i was embarrassed as usual and left. nigel looked for later flights while terry searched my rental car for reusable jars and other types of trash that could be repurposed. they wished for me to have a deserving and happy life and i will not let her down. (thank you pippin and paul for including me)

last summer around this very time in july, father rubbins- breen drove me to the airport from our vacation in rhode island. he told me enjoyed my company and stories and that he hoped i would find a good partner. these sweet people from a seemingly different world had taken a liken to me, a feral wanderer scared of their own shadow. i later made him a vegan lasagna for christmas and he sent me the sweetest voice memo i have saved on my phone. (happy birthday, cal, thank you for including me).

then in late july, lauren’s mom made us breakfast in the catskills . i had never been before. she asked me my pronouns and we talked about gender identity, faith, and her growing up- she was so open. we drank wine and ate blueberries. she later sent me a beautiful christmas package with a handknitted hat. she might not know how much her kindness meant to me, especially this past christmas. (happy upcoming birthday lauren, thank you for including me)

i had to remind myself this week of that kind of love. the love of elders who want to see a younger person thrive. i see that in myself with some of the youth i have and am working with in new orleans. their futures are compromised in so many ways by circumstances that are overwhelming systemic and intentional. i wish before the guns i could have packed this young man up in a car and driven him to the north east as i did a stray dog. instead a young man sits in jail on adult charges while the rest of the world goes on in whatever way it does.

Fariha Rosin reminds me of sitting with grief. today i will lean into the love from the north eastern elders

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