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| Luna loves summer |
It’s no longer mud season here on the hill. Long past it, in fact, but with all the rain, you’d never know it. And as my dogs take their daily walks in the woods, they relish mud and water more than women at a day spa relish mud and sea weed and other strange body coverings.
When my husband gripes about the dogs being wet, how much mud they splatter when they shake it off, I sing him the Labrador Retriever song - to the tune of ‘when a man loves a woman.’ Sing it for yourself. With feeling.
When a man gets a labrador retriever,
and he has a pond,
He must fully expect that dog will often be wet.
If a man wants a dry dog,
He should have got a Papillon,
which is what his wife suggested in the first place.
Well, yeah. And if you ask me why he thinks it might someday be otherwise, I have no answer, except that it’s a sign of his eternal optimism.
He should know better. Luna, in particular, is a true water dog. I knew this when she was six months old, and I brought her to my sister, Norma’s house, so we could walk her and my sister’s new sheltie puppy, Max, together. A doggie play date. And the first time she took a real swim.
We started at her house, which is on the block we grew up on, just up the street from the pond where we took swimming lessons when we were young. Our big test at that time, the marker which said we could go swimming alone, was swimming from shore to the float in the middle of the pond without assistance.
I can still remember the first time I did it, how aware I was of my brother standing on shore, his hands on his hips, watching to make sure I didn’t flounder. It seemed very far away, and I was scared I wouldn’t make it, but I did. And when I dragged myself up onto the float, I looked to shore to see him nodding approval. I was a swimmer.
For Luna, it was all much easier.
We walked our two dogs through the playground adjacent to the pond, took them around the trail and to the small beach. It was early May, and the pond wasn’t open yet, so there were no swimmers. Just a man standing at shore teaching his daughter how to fish for sunnies, a mother and her son building sand castles on shore. We took the dogs off leash, and tossed a frisbee around, which Max loved, and which distracted him from trying to keep the water from lapping the shore. Shelties are herding dogs, and in the absence of sheep, they’ll corral anything that might get out of bounds.
But when I tossed the frisbee, since I’m pretty bad at throwing things, it went in the water, and Luna immediately went in after it. She stood there, hip deep, and paused. She shivered meaningfully, as if she’d just seen a Goddess. Then, the frisbee still in her mouth, she started paddling out toward the middle.
“She’s swimming,” my sister said. “Shouldn’t you stop her?”
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| Mud is GOOD! |
“Yeah,” I said. “How?”
Clearly, there was no stopping her. This puppy was paddling with intent, her gaze focused, every gene in her body telling her she was made to do just this. Just this.
She went out well over my head, and swam in large circles, hanging on to that frisbee.
“Luna!” I called.
She turned toward me, then kept swimming, and if a dog can look beatific, she was all that. Her eyes half open, she paddled with joy, water in her face, water all around her, water, water, everywhere. My sister’s sheltie lingered at the shore and barked, not sure Luna’s paddling was a good thing, but Luna had no doubt at all.
As I watched, I understood I was witnessing a living being doing exactly what it was meant to do, exactly everything that brought her joy and dharmic fulfillment. She was being who she was meant to be, and it felt good to her. Really good.
Since I have a lot of very active mirror neurons - those parts of the brain that allow us to feel what others around us are feeling - I got the lesson. This is what it looks like to be exactly who you’re meant to be. Witnessing her bliss reminded me of what it’s like to be a writer, or to choose any path that’s, um, unusual and authentic. It’s messy, and sometimes frightening, but if you’re lucky enough to find and follow that path, oh my. Will it feel good? Will it ever.
She paddled for more than twenty minutes before I waded out toward her and called her fervently back to dry land. I heard her huff of breath - a doggie sigh - and she turned back to shore.
Since that time, she’s ready to leap into water at a moment’s notice. Once or twice I’ve had the pleasure of swimming with her in country creeks. More often, I just watch as she tosses herself into water as if into the heart of a universe that loves her.
Mud season, and labs combined with a pond, require a whole pile of towels as well as a mop that’s in constant use, but Luna’s expression is a daily cup of joy, and couldn’t we all use a little of that.
Here’s hoping you find and relentlessly pursue the place you’re supposed to be.
You can learn more about my fictional character, Big Cat woman Jaguar Addams, who knows exactly what she wants to do and does it, at wildside.com. Meantime, here’s a messy little recipe, just for summer fun.
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| Life's a - you know. |
Swimming Cherries and Frying Onions
Really. Cherries and onions. Something sweet and savory, good for many uses. We had a lot of cherries this week - it’s that time of year - and I wanted to play with them the way Luna swims. This recipe is for a very small experimental bowl - just about a cup - but you can expand it as you like. I know I will
13 Cherries, halved and pitted
1 cippolini onion (small and sweet onion. So sweet)
1 tbps. flour
GOOD olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
Some prosecco, or other sweet white wine ( I actually used a peach moscato, and it was yum)
Put the halved cherries in a bowl with a cup or so of the wine and the salt and pepper and let them get all happy swimming in it for an hour, up to overnight. You’ll know by their smiles that it’s working.
Sip a little of the resultant juice, because it’s goooood.
Slice up a cippolini onion or another small onion, and dredge it in the flour.
Get the olive oil hot in a saute pan and throw in the onions, letting them get brown and crispy, but NOT BURNT! Because they don’t swim and can’t cool off.
Remove the onions, wipe the pan out and add a bit more olive oil. Get it HOT.
Toss in the cherries, and move them around as they cook. Add the juices from the bowl and the onions, lower the heat and let it cook a little more, until the liquid goes away.
Use the cherries on chicken or duck, or in a salad. Or just eat them. They’re quite a taste treat.
