Early in 2017 sometime around
midnight, I was stroking the back of my puppy while she lay on her side with
her eyes closed and half a smile on her face as she does nearly every night
before bedtime. This is one of our many rituals. I sit on the floor with her, put her to sleep,
and say repetitions of Hail Mary and Our Father for guidance and protection
because the task of taking care of another life form is scary for me. And it occurred
to me, “This is the happiest I have ever been.”
I had scars on my face, I couldn’t look at myself in a big mirror, I was
always short on cash, everyone at work thinks I’m a weird loser, I was far away
from the friends who don’t think so, but still, I felt so much gratitude for
the kind of life I have been given. And I asked for one more thing, “Please don’t
take away what I have. Let me keep them for as long as you can let me keep
them.” Knowing that you have so much to lose makes life feel so large and
wonderful and great and happy.
It’s not just the dog although I’m
pretty sure she has tiny white wings beneath that chocolate fur. It’s the
realization that I have it in me to wake up at 4 am to potty train a puppy,
make enough money for basics like power and running water, and soldier through an
office environment that reminds me of my social awkwardness and “otherness.”
And yet sometimes I forget. That’s
humanity’s greatest folly: to sit in the midst of gold and still chase after
what’s not there. Tsk. I would not be doing the Little Prince proud. Just in case I forget again, here are the
roses of my life:
Thank you for my mother who knows
what I need before I even realize it.
What am I going to do without you?
Thank you for my funny baby dog
who is currently humping every male dog in the street. Babe, I don’t know how to tell you that that’s
not how it works but I love the disregard for gender roles. I raised you well.
Thank you for great friends who
never stop listening. They say the world is an ugly but you make me feel
otherwise. And I don’t want to be the only fabulous person around.
Thank you for fast fingers and
good sentences. You put food on the
table and create a space for my head.
Thank you for the scars that help
me mentally tag the bad, the good and the one-of-a-kind. You help me see more
clearly, and spend my love more wisely.
And finally thank you for
everyone else who can’t help but dislike me. I have considered changing for
you, but at the end of the day, no. That energy is best invested in loving baby dogs who smile in their sleep.