in august, i went on an overnight waterfall adventure to celebrate my life with atlas.

it turned out to be the perfect sort of adventure.

at one point, i got part-way down the trail to a waterfall only to find step after step after step. atlas was not a fan of steps, especially in his later years.

and atlas was right there with me. i could feel him! i could feel his presence.

then, i could see him. he was laughing. i heard him say, “you wouldn’t have gotten me down those steps!”

that’s why the adventure was perfect. it was typical: spontaneous & unplanned & not well thought out at all.

atlas would go along happily – he was game for almost anything – until he decided he was done, and then nothing i could do would convince him otherwise.

when i reached black river harbor, i had to walk across a suspension bridge to get to lake superior. it was a hot evening and i had hiked to a few waterfalls already and i really wanted to jump in the lake.

as i walked across the bridge, there was atlas again. he laughed & said, “you know if i were there, you wouldn’t get to the lake!”

because oh, did atlas dislike bridges. he liked to feel the solid ground under his feet. if i absolutely made him go on a bridge, even a floating bridge, he would lie down and belly crawl until i finally took pity on him.

again, so typical.

as i jumped in the lake that evening, i had a huge smile on my face and my heart was full of joy.

joy from the swim in my beloved lake.

joy from the memories of my beloved pup.

but even as i celebrated my life with atlas, there was a moment on the trail during which i realized that there was another reason i took myself on an adventure.

my grampa died in december. atlas died in june. my grama was dying (she died two days later, the morning after i got back). most of my time for the past three years had been spent with the three of them. now, they were all gone or going.

in that moment on the trail, i realized that i had spent so much time sitting with death, watching death come closer & closer, that this was my way of reminding myself that i was still very much alive.

it brings me joy to imagine that all of the natural treasures i find now are gifts from (angel) atlas. often, they are blue jay feathers – my favorite.

today’s gifts, received while on a trail run:

• tiny mushrooms that were the size & shape of wild pansies but poppy red (with a black splotch) in color.
• a buttercup yellow moth.
• a mushroom that looked like it had been caramelized and then covered in rainbow sprinkles. (i did not take a bite, but oh, how i wanted to.)
• a crooked tree on the aptly named applesauce trail that was full of tiny sweet wild apples. as i tossed my apple cores on the side of the trail, i pretended i was johnny appleseed.

{atlas: march 15, 2003 – june 15, 2016}

last wednesday, i said goodbye to my atlas pup.

when we came in from his middle-of-the-night potty run during the wee hours of tuesday morning, i sat on my bed in the dark & sobbed. somehow, i just knew.

my sweet pup was so tired, and in so much pain, and he couldn’t take care of me anymore, and it was time.

i often hear things speak to me, including other dogs, but i’ve never once heard atlas.

until that moment.

in the moment when i knew, i heard his voice all around me. it was deep + wise + wonderful.

he said it’s ok.
he said i’m ready.
he said it’s time.

his passage was hard + beautiful. his three favorite people – myself, my sister helen, and my mother – were in the room with him. when his legs couldn’t hold him up anymore, i laid on the floor next to him & gazed into his eyes & hugged him gently while i sang his favorite song over & over & over.

you are the puppy that i always dreamed of.
i knew it from the start.
i saw your face and that’s the last i’ve seen of my heart.

i love that song because it’s exactly true. i went to eureka to meet him and i saw his face through the screen door and i knew he was my beloved pup and he would come home with me and i would love him forever.

atlas healed my heart, and taught me about life + loyalty + love. and oh, was he loved in return.

it seems fitting, then, that we buried him in the back yard under a blanket of lilacs + forget-me-nots. (and that while i dug his grave, tears fell like rain from the heavens.)

rest in peace, sweet atlas.
you were (are) my beloved pup.
i am kinder + more generous + more patient + more loving because of you.
and i will love you (more than all the stars in the sky & all the fish in the sea) forever.

i was awful to atlas one day this past winter.

we were driving home from the ski trails & he had to poop. i couldn’t stop the car in time, so he pooped in the car.

i shouted at him & called him a bad dog & pulled him out of the car none-too-gently.

it was not my shiniest moment.

oh, did i hang onto it.

guilting, shaming, judging, weighing.

this dog saved me and these are the final years of his life and he can’t help that his body is failing him and this is probably the last straw and i’ll never be able to make it up to him and now all he’ll remember are the awful moments and i am clearly the worst person in the entire world.

i want to be my own best friend.

in these moments – the moments in which i behave in a way that is so far from how i want to behave – i am not my friend at all.

not because i behave badly – we all behave badly at times – but because of the way i speak to myself & look at myself afterward.

i’ve been learning to love myself for a long time now.

ten years, i think.

every time i think i’ve got it, something like this happens and it throws me.

but maybe that’s what loving myself deeply means.

facing – again & again – my deeply flawed broken human self and finding a way to love + forgive her.

atlas is 13! as of march 15th.

can you believe it? (i can scarcely believe it myself.)

his special day included a double hamburger, a long nap with me, a hike by the lake, and lots (& lots) of kisses.

i’ve written a lot about atlas over the years – that’s why so many people love him – but lately, when it comes to my beloved pup, my heart grows & grows & grows until it fills my throat. there are no words left, only feelings.

atlas is a piece of my heart walking around outside of my body, and i so so so adore him.

i curl up at the foot of the bed,
a stack of pillows behind me,
journal & pen in my hand.

you are lying
lengthwise
on the bed,
(on your bed, you’d say)
your head near me.

you wriggle
backward-forward
backward-forward
backward-forward
until
your head
touches
my thigh.

you push your head against me,
burrowing in.

your head
finally
at rest,
you let out a long groan-sigh.

it says, this is nice.
it says, i am content.
it says, stay.

the sound
enters
my ears,
slips down
my spine,
and lands
in my heart.

if i could,
i would stay
here
forever.

ham.
turkey.
venison.
mashed potatoes.
peanut butter cookies.
more turkey.
stuffing.
gravy.

YUM.

i love december.

i was just reading the sweet tribute mama gena wrote to her pup. my favorite lines were these, about people with dogs:

“They are people who have deliberately chosen to let unconditional love into their lives. They are people who want to be reminded daily that they are the most important thing in the world, and worthy of deep relentless adoration and affection.”

oh, did this resonate with me. when atlas came into my life, i didn’t believe i was worthy of love at all. and yet he loved me. fully & completely.

in every moment, he showed me that i was worthy of adoration & affection, simply because i was his person & i existed.

i mean, look at this photo! you know how atlas feels about photos & posing & dogs in costume. and yet he continues to adore me. though let the record reflect that i respected his deep dislike of costumes even though i did take advantage of his fondness for bandanas.

12 years later, i do love myself. fully & completely. the way he loved me all along. in the moments when i falter, there he is, ready (as always) to remind me.

the love of a dog is really something special. and the love of an old dog, oh my. so much slow true depth & richness.

friends!

i’ve missed you!

i have been very busy over here keeping an eye on small children and large elders. but don’t worry, i still get lots of naps.

did you know that it is hunting season in michigan? i love hunting season. i went hunting the other day (on my own, my person said to mention. apparently some dogs go hunting with people. why, i ask you? people just slow me down.) and there were smells everywhere. i did not see a deer but i sure smelled them. it was the most exciting day ever.

the hot days of summer are over and i am happy to report that i did not swim. since you’re my friend, i’ll confess that i did grow to love the beach this year. it turns out that a beach blanket and a cool lake are just the thing for a very hot dog. swimming, on the other hand, is not. i do have my principles.

last month, my person told me that we’d been together for 12 years. someone took a picture of us for her and i stood still and looked at the camera. don’t you think i deserve an ice cream cone of my very own for that?! i certainly do.

uh-oh! i hear small children! it’s back to work for me.

take care of yourself, please! you are worth it.

your friend, atlas

the car stops.

two legs step down.
four legs jump down.
feet (& paws) on the ground.
relief.

the leash comes off.
freedom!
nose in the air, he runs down the sandy beach,
further & further
until
she can fit him
on her index finger.

he looks different somehow.
head
higher.
back
straighter.

when he finally returns,
when panic has made her voice
hoarse,
her mind
dizzy,
she hugs him in relief.

what were you doing?

i was pretending i was my own dog.