Merlyn the Iron Dog

Merlyn got sick. Listening to a dog cry is excrutiating. So we took him to the animal emergency hospital late Sunday night. We left at 2 a.m. sans sick dog. Poor pup. Something is wrong with his lower spine. Monday night my husband came downstairs and said they called and said he had degenerative bone disease. I don't think I've ever cried so hard.
Merlyn is a poor excuse for a dog. He hates to ride in cars. He has allergies that cause him to stink. His anti-allergy medicines are expensive. He is quite smart and will be obedient just long enough for you to actually trust him, then zoom he runs off, laughing at you for being such a fool.
And yet I find it impossible not to love him. I love him more than any of the other dogs we ever had. The thing I love most is that if you yell at him, he won't slink away but will come stick his nose in your hand, as if to say "You know you love me so stop being angry."
We were despondent Monday night. I drove H to Backyard Burger so he could get a burger. I just needed to get out of the house. Then we went to the video store in what we figured was a futile attempt to find a movie we could both enjoy. We needed distraction big time.
Of course, nothing looked appealing. Two heartbroken people stumbling around the video store, one of whom doesn't really like many movies to begin with. We were just about to walk out when I saw the box for Iron Man.
"Hey, I heard this was good," I said.
And it was. And for two hours, we kept the grief beast at bay. I love the way fantasy and reality mixed in this movie. It was hilarious in spots; Robert Downey Jr was a revelation, something very Deppesque about his performance. Of course, the big fight finale was OTT. Hollywood endings always are. But the very end of the movie? The last line? Brilliant.
So now, three days later we are on our way to pick up the prodigal dog. It's not degenerative bone disease. And it only cost $2000 to find this out. We'll see how he fares. Maybe he'll turn out to be as resilient as Iron Man. Whatever. You only get so many years with a dog, so if he smells bad and doesn't behave like a good dog should, you love him anyway. Cause when they're gone, you're in for a big hurt.

Fasting

The directions said nothing about not ingesting any liquid after midnight the day of the procedure. I guess if I were the sort of person who did this regularly I would know better than to drink apple juice, peppermint tea and then a full glass of water before going in for a colonoscopy. You know? But I am not the sort of person who gets these things done. I won't even go get a friggin mammogram. I hate these things. Hate hospitals. Don't hate doctors but don't like to see them on anything other than a purely social basis. So I get there and you would have thought I was an utter moron for having ingested liquid. I didn't get the procedure. I had to go back home and starve for two more days.

BUT I figure there is a measure of spiritual growth in this. It can't be a bad thing not to eat solid foods for four days and four nights. So I use the time to read Eat, Pray, Love and of course all I feel after that is envy for her cool experiences and her smashing success. I also use the time to do my Kriya, and the chant I learned at the Tennessee Ashram in March. I do a little but not much work. My side doesn't seem to hurt much anymore.

I also come to a realization. I must walk. I must walk a lot. How this idea comes to me is that I'm finally working on the fantasy novel I've been wanting to write my whole life. It's not like it's pouring out of me or anything. I'm sort of just slugging away at it. And I have the girl going on a walk, a day's walk to the sea. It occurred to me that I should walk to the beach. Now, it's about a three and a half hour drive from here in Charlotte to the beach. I don't know how much time that equates to in foot steps. But I figure if I take my credit cards and stay at motels and am not in a hurry, it should be do able. Hell, I've got a great pair of hiking boots.

But first I have to eat some food again which can't happen till tomorrow. In fact, I'm not going to walk to the beach right away. I'm going to just start walking around town. Maybe walk to my mother's place first. See how long a walk a fifteen minute drive translates into. Then walk every day for at least an hour or so. Build up my walking stamina. Learn what I need to carry with me.

The thing is that is very clear to me. I mean, I am dealing with a big old shit bag of self-loathing right now. I have accepted things someone with the tiniest shred of self-respect would not accept. No details now. Too personal. Too painful. But I think the cure for me will be to walk. Not go hiking in the mountains. It's too easy to put that off. I'm going to walk in the city. And walk. And walk.

And when it gets cool enough, maybe I'll walk to the beach.