I must have written this on 22nd or 23rd September last year. I don't think I posted it. I want to, so here it is. The tree I planted for her at the time has just begun to leaf. It's sprouty and all over the place. I think she may be growing through it. Thanks, Mousticle. Still miss you, always love you, little silly dog.
=======
A Man Who Is Gentle With Dogs
 |
| First photo I ever saw of her |
It’s
been quite a day. This morning, after resisting it for a few days, I returned
with my beautiful, skinny little girldog, Mouse (aka Audrey Hepburn), to the
vet. She has been vomiting a lot. I thought she just had a grass fetish, and I
failed to notice how much weight she’d lost. It’s a lot, and she’s lost even
more over the last few days. She’s very thin, with her little bony pelvis all
pointy and her ribs showing. Looking back, I’m embarrassed to say that I’d
noticed quite some time ago that she was losing weight, but that I hadn’t taken
it in as an ongoing thing. She was still eating well until this morning.
She was sprightly on our walk today. I let her off the lead and she ran around joyfully after shaggy old Ossian and her beefcake sister, Baba. She hadn’t eaten and she was a little bit reticent in places, but running free, she was boisterous and waggy.
She
wasn’t keen on going back. Last week, a gentleman who seemed quite friendly at
the start stuck a cold stick up her bum. She wriggled it out before the
temperature was fully taken. And then he gave her an injection that made her
writhe and bark (quite normal, he said, and it did stop her being sick, but it
wasn’t nice). So in the waiting room, she looked like a completely different
dog. Cowering, her skinny made her skeletal, where tail-up and dressage-stepped
in the open field, she’d looked lean and healthy.
In
the waiting room, she shrunk next to me and made to leave whenever the lead was
slack. After a while, a man came out from the vet we would later see with two
cats in a carrier. Mouse, enemy of cats, didn’t so much as sniff at them. Not
so the man. This timid girl pulled towards him, gazing up. He was grey-haired,
soft-eyed and solid. Quite pleasing to look at, but more to sense. He had a gentle
groundedness that Mouse and I both loved. His wife was there – it wasn’t a
hit-on thing – but Mouse was smitten. Before long, she was locked underneath is
leg, leaning in with all of her sligthness. He held her gently, laying his hand
softly on her scruff and on her chest, stroking and then just letting her be
there while we talked. I could see how safe he made her feel and I was grateful to him for that. He made me feel safe too. That, I thought, that is the kind of energy I want too, in my man. That solid, unapologetic masculinity, that protective gentleness. Fatherly without control. Husbandly, perhaps. I don’t quite have the word. Gentle with dogs.
He
was so sweet and very loving with the Mouse (who is a dog). His wife commented
on how all dogs love him and I felt such gratitude to him for soothing her in a
way I couldn’t.
Later,
talking with the Eagle Owl again, I was drawn into a yearning and a sudden
knowing. First, that I want this energy in my life, that I yearn for it, and
know its welcome touch. This is good news. With that energy (his, but not his…
the generic form of his energy – GentleMan-Wife, you have nothing to fear from
me).
Two
things were clear:
First,that
I want this in a man in my life – someone whose pleasure it is to hold me and
to receive my nurture – a sweet flavour of a different giving energy, flavoured
with the feminine. I fantasised how I would feel invincible with someone of
that strength and gentleness on my side, ready to step in.
Second,
that I have that energy too. That I can make that in my own body, generate that
feeling of always being held, of someone (in fact, me) having my back, with
loving eyes and a hand resting gently on my scruff or my chest, saying ‘I’ve
got you. Do your thing. I’ll love you whether it lives or dies. I’m here’.
Divine masculine, says Eagle Owl, and it feels divine. Full of respect and
nurture.
I
felt elated. Today has been rich in so many senses of the word. On agreeing to
leave Mouse at the vet’s, I had some fear. I’ve left myself short for
emergencies, or even basics. I’ve had a temporary rock-bottoming and it has, I
think begun to bounce.
A
beloved friend stepped in and agreed to lend me the money I need – for now – to
keep the girl in care. Not only that, she took the time to say wonderful things
to me, things I really needed to hear. I find myself turned around – from a
feeling of deep lack, and fear that I’ve been rejecting to no avail (instead of
loving it – aaaahhhh, such gifts to realise) to one of lushness, provision,
flow. I sense something I have been striving to feel and missing, feeling it
tickle my fingers as it slipped though… and now here it is, fat and heavy in my
hand, weighing it with meaning. Here is everything you need. You can have what
you need but you must must must learn to receive. By rejecting this receiving
out of pride, you turn away untold riches at the gate, all dressed up and ready
to come and dance with you. But no, you say, I must provide for myself, I must
fight my own weakness, I must, I must, I must…
And
so the tension, shame and lack had won the game, but with this cut-wide
openness to flow and to what is, I sense that the change has come. A blissful,
blessed time.
Mouse
is still at the vet’s. She’s being well looked after and has a drip to fill her
little body with fluids and keep her well. She’s having tests. Whatever happens
(and of course I’m worried – she’s my sweet nugget of dogness, and such a
gentle thing herself), I hope I will accept it. I love her, and I send my love
to her. She hasn’t had to strive to earn that bounty, and I hope she’s wise
enough (and so much dog, so little human) to let it in and keep on filling her
up. 
