She Came In a Dream, Pt 2

Dec 17

*Phoenix, the Ocean, and the Moon | January 1, 2021*

Bey hops up onto the bed in our hotel room, and as he does, he releases a harumph. True asks to get onto the bed with Bey, so I stoop down to lift him up. True crawls over to Bey, gently but enthusiastically asking for his approval. With a bit of chagrin on his face, Bey releases one more aloof “harumph,” before laying onto his side and letting True sidle up next to him.

This surprises me.

Bey, Mr. Loves Everybody, is clearly not eager to engage with True. He is not mean, and he is not going to completely ignore him. But he’s not seeking him out either. There’s a sense of annoyance Bey seems to be carrying, like the tired older sibling who just wants to be left alone. Well, this isn’t what I expected. I spend some time playing tug with them both. True eats it up, and he is truly a ball of gentle, friendly energy that is stuck in an unforgiving body. Bey shakes off some of his aloofness, but he never fully opens up. He remains reserved, as though he just needs to get through the next 12 hours. I can almost hear him uttering to himself, “One sleep, then it’ll just be me and Mom again.”

The night passes uneventfully, and we meet back up with True’s foster mom in the morning. I’m honest with her – I tell her True is a sweetheart, and I really enjoy his company, but Bey seemed a little reserved. “Can I take a few days to consider?” Of course, she replies, take all the time you need. We go our separate ways, and I decide to take Bey up the ski slopes of Jackson Hole. It’s the off season, so the slopes are closed, but there is still some snow on the first run and I see that the community is free to venture up on foot. Bey glimpses the snow and lights up. He loves the stuff. Ok buddy…tell me what you thought. He’s not the one, is he? Bey’s steadily moving on a few feet ahead of me, exploring the smells on the slope and grabbing the occasional bite of snow, when I feel his response. “No. Not him, Mom.” I let a confused sense of disappointment sink in. I was so certain True was the dog for us. My mind wanders as I follow along behind Bey, and I follow it as if it were Family Circus. Eventually, my thoughts circle in on the dream I had just a few nights ago. I really do need to look at BFAS again. If True’s not the one, maybe there’s something else waiting for us.

Our first stop as we roll back into Denver is to Bey’s favorite place, The Bark Bar. “After 10 hours in the truck, buddy, you deserve some romp time!” A handful of his usual friends are there, and Bey happily greets each one, tail wagging and gentle, steady confidence radiating out of him as always. He looks the most himself he has all weekend. I hear you buddy, loud and clear. I pull out my phone to draft an email to True’s foster mom, thanking her so much for her time and for sharing True with us. I write the honest truth: True was a sweetheart, and I felt fortunate to get to meet him and spend time with him. And, Bey has made it clear it needs to be another pup. True isn’t quite the one for us. I don’t hit send, not quite yet. I need to sit with it for a while. Tomorrow, I tell myself, if it still feels clear, I’ll send it. I watch Bey tumbling around with his friends, fading sunlight giving way to mid-Spring’s evening chill, and a smile plays at the corner of my mouth. This, right here, is what it needs to be with his sibling. This is why I’m searching in the first place.

It’s 10pm and I’m lying in bed listening to the most recent Grey’s Anatomy play in the background. My mind has continued to wonder, circling the same circuitous trails in my brain. Bey is sound asleep beside me. Steady. Resolute. I pull my laptop over to me, open up a new tab, and type it in: www.bestfriends.org. Two breaths later, there’s a page with a handful of cattle dogs glowing on the screen in front of me. I absentmindedly flick my fingers up the trackpad, scrolling down while not paying attention. Gentle, uncertain brown eyes find mine; my breath catches in my chest. Oh… I turn my full attention to the face now in front of me.

Apple

Location: Sanctuary (Kanab)

Looks Like: Cattle Dog

Estimated Birthday: September 2012

Color: White and Tan

Sex: Female.

My eyes flit over the block of text describing the pup. Found as a stray, had a litter of puppies, now waiting for her own home. Loves other dogs. Shy with people but learning to trust. I look back at her picture, enlarging it to let it fill my screen. Shit. It’s her. She’s the one from my dream. I click on the bright orange “Adopt Apple!” button, fill out the application, and close my laptop. My head is spinning, but my heart is filled with a wild recognition. Familiarity. This dog, we’ve met before. I turn onto my side, gently throwing my hand over Bey’s shoulder, and do my best to invite sleep to come.

I’m in the middle of an online meeting when my email pings. I toggle over to the tab and immediately lose my focus. Colleagues continue to talk around me, but I don’t hear them anymore. The email is from Jessica Harrington, Best Friends Adoption Specialist. It’s about Apple.

She shares some more details with me, mentioning again how sweet and learning to trust Apple is, and highlighting that she has shown a tendency for resource guarding in the past. Apple can’t be left alone, as she’s always had dog company with her, but that won’t be a problem with her joining my little family since Bey is here. And she doesn’t do crates. Never has. None of these things feel too concerning, so it’s an easy decision to continue the conversation. Voices drone on in the background, but I am feeling overwhelmed with the knowing that this dog is meant to come home with me. I am determined to make it happen as quickly as possible.

A few days go by, emails pinging between me and Jessica as we finalize details. Apple, who I now know I will name Phoenix, is officially mine. I said it then, and I still say it now – she’s the best $50 I’ve ever spent. The logistics of how to get her to me are proving a bit more difficult. Kanab is a 10-11 hour drive from Denver, and my work schedule just wasn’t going to allow for me to take that time for a few more weeks. I didn’t want to wait that long. They couldn’t fly her because of her aversion to crates. Instead, Jessica offered to check around with their staff and volunteers to see if anyone would be heading out my way in the next week. As luck would have it, a volunteer would be driving from Kanab to Chicago to attend a wedding, and she was happy to bring Phoenix along and make the swing through Denver to drop her off. The date was set.

Phoenix would be arriving home on May 7, 2014.

---

That morning, I could barely focus on work. I had taken a half day, knowing that she would be arriving sometime in the afternoon and wanting time to spend with Bey, our last afternoon as just the two of us. As I did my best to get through my task list, I felt a growing mixture of excitement and apprehension. I could feel in my bones that Phoenix was meant to join our family. I also knew, very acutely, that our lives would never be the same.

It’s a funny thing, adding a new animal to the family. There are so many moments in life that we look back on and recognize as markers of “before” and “after” – moments when life changes forever, in big or small ways. Yet, except for those big or cataclysmic moments, we miss them. It’s not until we have the benefit of time to look back and realize, life has shifted. That’s not the case when bringing home a new member of the family. Immediately you are presented with the acute awareness that life is forever changed. Even when that change is yearned for, feels right, or comes with a whole lot of excitement, it always brings me a sense of grief as well. Grief for knowing a season of life is over, and perhaps a feeling that I could have appreciated it even more.

Work wraps up for the day around noon. The volunteer who is driving Phoenix has texted me to let me know they likely won’t be arriving until closer to 4 pm, so I decide to load up Bey and head over to The Bark Bar. As we drive across town, the skies are threatening. Huge thunder heads are hanging over the Rockies, heavy with moisture and bringing with them an eerily peaceful energy. The air is literally charged. I park the truck, lift Bey out of the back seat as always, and we wander in to a relatively empty Bark Bar. There are maybe 4 other folks there, and Catherine is behind the bar. It’s always great to see her. I order a beer, Bey and I head outside, and then – BOOM! – the skies open up. It’s as though someone turned on the faucet full blast, rain pummeling down to Earth as thunder rolls once more. Lightning snaps down a short while later. “Come on in everyone! We aren’t supposed to have you guys in here with your dogs, but screw that. Get out of the rain!” Catherine hollers over the mighty roar of the storm. It’s magical, intense, and exhilarating. It felt special to be hanging out at the bar with Bey, the other dogs, and their people. Catherine knows I’m getting a second dog, and she asks when she’s arriving. When I let her know she’s just a few hours away, she’s excited for me. “I can’t wait to meet her!”

“I can’t wait to bring her here!”

It’s another 40 minutes or so until the storm passes over, leaving cooler temperatures and that nostalgic smell of fresh rain on pavement. As the clock approaches 2:30, I look down at Bey. “Ok, buddy. Are you ready to head home and meet your sister?” His bright eyes shine back at me and I can almost see a smile across his face. He can feel her coming, and he’s excited.

—-

A car pulls up to the curb outside, and I see a woman just a few years older than I am step out of the car. My eyes follow her to the back door on the passenger side and I see her. Phoenix is there on the seat, her eyes filled with apprehension and uncertainty. “She travelled pretty well! She’s a sweet girl.” she says as she opens the door to begin to get Phoenix out of the car. I wish I had caught her name, but the reality is I wouldn’t have remembered it even if I had. I only had the focus for Phoenix.

Phoenix slowly gets out of the car. She’s carrying her head low, as if she expects the sky to fall in at any moment, and I can feel the apprehension coming from her body. She’s had a huge, life-altering several months, and now she’s been pulled from the first safety she’d known to be plopped on some stranger’s doorstep.

Except, we aren’t strangers. She found me in my dreams.

I collect up her leash, a baggie of food, paperwork and a blanket from the volunteer. Final pleasantries exchanged, I thank them once more for safely bringing Phoenix home, and as she steps back into the car to continue her drive to Chicago, I turn towards the house with Phoenix. I start to move towards the front door, but seeing how nervous Phoenix is, I decide it’s best to go in through the garden gate instead. Bey is waiting there on the other side, listening in and I am certain smelling her, but yet to make a peep. I open the gate, pushing it in front of us, and Phoenix slinks through. As soon as I’m sure the gate is well latched, I drop the leash, allowing Phoenix to make a beeline for a spot in the garden behind several large bushes, up against the fence. This would become her safe spot for several days, the place from which she watched me and Bey and learned that I was safe.

Bey, surprisingly, was giving Phoenix her space. He focused more on me, smelling the few things that had come with her, and following me as I took them down into our basement apartment. “C’mon buddy, let’s go sit outside for a while,” I whispered to him. He started to follow me back up the short flight of stairs. Then I heard his trademark shuffle pause, turn around, and go back into the bedroom. I glanced over my shoulder to see what had stopped him. A few short moments later, Bey came shuffling back over towards me, his stuffed Border Collie in tow. This was his all-time favorite toy, a stuffy of mine from my childhood that I had given him when he first came home. He carried it up the stairs, through the doggy door, and gently hopped across the lawn to where Phoenix was sitting, stone-still. Bey looked at her, gently placed his Border Collie at her feet in front of her, gave her a gentle tail wag, then turned and hopped back over to me.

Yeah, this is going to be just fine, I thought to myself, smiling.

Welcome Home, Phoenix.