the miracle dog

/

love. determination and the fight to save bean. poetry in progress

the quiet life

me and bean. cape cod. sept. 2012. 

 

his broad freckled chest now has a gnarly scar 

where he was stitched back together 

twice after the porcupine when

 

they cut his sternum bone in half 

again to remove the right front lung

lobe after they found

 

twenty-four quills in his heart

three in his lungs, forty

removed the first time

 

they performed open heart open 

lung surgery and he still 

didn’t heal nine days later

 

we brought him home in

critical condition after two 

nights of opioid torture in

 

the hospital parking lot we slept 

at a campground until he was stable

enough to make it home

 

where he could not be left

alone and his medication 

schedule was a short story

 

and his stitches became infected

the laundry constantly going to

rotate his t-shirt supply 

 

to keep him clean and his harness 

dry his sister constantly

by his side and

 

he healed as we 

fought against odds not in our favor to

keep him alive

 

after thousands of quills were 

pulled from his body they nicknamed

him the miracle dog

 

where we went for five weeks 

for check-ups and eventually it

was summertime

 

and he slept on the deck

sprawled on the couch his 

heart beating his lungs inflating

 

with salty air where he

swam and napped under 

the apple trees

 

where life re-formed

every breath no longer a fight 

but a reminder of

 

the value of the beat

the sigh and the light.

 

getdrunkbeardown

hugyourdog

 

may 12, 2017      recovery

Toulouse

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she's going to live forever. i told myself. 5.8.2006 - 9.30.2015 a real live teddy bear

driftwood beach jekyl island feb. 2015 'shadows'

i never imagined my life without her.

the most loyal. selfless companion I have ever known. 

it began on a horse farm where I worked. like a shadow, she followed. everywhere. without a fuss. never in my way. toulouse? . . . of course. right here. 

i was accepted to college. we moved to our first apartment in nyc. 83rd st. west side. central park. my life unfolded, memories took shape. every day - the adventures of me and toulouse. ordinary enough. from time to time, unusual. when i wrote for school, she slept under my desk. when i wasn't studying, we did things together. all the time. central park was our yard. we wandered the streets - unleashed - metaphorically and physically. she never strayed. at a local watering hole, i joined the beer club. toulouse, the popcorn club. she established a profound love for salted kernals while i for hops. date night with touls. bodyguard. best friend. sidekick.

i went rollerblading. she came. running. she came. for a beer. she came. in a car. she came. to meet my boyfriend 35 blocks away. there she was by my side. she came almost everywhere.

“we” became we.

life became more unpredictable, we leaned on one another. move downtown. alphabet city. weekends upstate. horses to ride. family in maine. freedom in montauk. ongoing exploration. 

she turned five. i started grad school. murphy arrived - dancing machine. aka. bean. youth. . . yep. he kept her young.

 

assateague national seashore feb. 2015 (toulouse near. murphy distant) 'keepin' her young'

ask anyone who ever met her, toulouse was extraordinary. rare. intensely devoted. bullet proof - a real live teddy bear. anywhere. any situation. she adapted. toulouse was a workaholic. her job, me. protect. support. love. soulmate. many of her traits were innate. i didn't train her to be. she just was. magical. exceptional. she was my rock. i was certainly hers. as my best friend once said, 'you speak to her in full sentences . . . but she understands.' of course.

when i started thedrunkbear, toulouse was the heart of my inspiration. years of full time work. a masters degree. the hustle of NYC. enough. all i wanted was to travel in our new van, nova, write poetry, take photos - spend every day with my dogs. i once told my mom i was going to buy a motorcycle with a sidecar and toulouse and I were going to travel together all over the country. seriously. in some ways, nova is that dream. the motorcycle became a van and the two of us became four of us.

toulouse's death was devastating and unexpected. thankfully she did not suffer. murphy spent his days asleep. refused to leave our city block. i cried. a lot. struggled with my writing, inspiration and art. home. . a vast emptiness. murphy stopped his dance moves and she wasn't here to make me laugh (or keep me from stressing over nonsense). another dog? a new home? nova with three? insomnia and sadness.

i took a hiatus from this project after her death. when i sat to write i shed far more tears than words. discouraged. yes. afraid. sure. but how better to cope, to move forward, than to pursue the dream she so inspired. get drunk. bear down.                                                                                                                

to the end of an era. . .

maine coast may 8th 2015 - last birthday at the beach 'colorblind'

you were supposed to live forever

miss you. just you. cause there is no comparison.

come visit anytime. i dream a lot.

see you on the other side

xoxoxoxo

visit snapshots to see a few more. . .

'cause it fits in a parking spot. where we live.

/

bean lounge. (un)leash your dog. sleep anywhere. everywhere and . . . in between.

now that's the way to do it. 

all four of you fit in there? 

i could never do it. 

where do you sleep?

that's nova. aka, noves. the girl. she's 18 ft.

bean just turned 4, lazy boy.

and yea, people ask these questions all the time. and yea, we make ourselves fit. we also made a lot of changes. microwave out, books in. tv down, cable cut.  2 motorcycles, truck, car. . . gone. donate old i-don't-know-what. . . done. house on market. . . check. NYC studio . . still got it. 

travel. learn. explore. study. bar. culture. music. food. surf. fish. . . 

life?

still living. still learning.

you live in that thing?

no. 

where do you live?

nowhere. . . well, everywhere. but we have a studio in NYC. so that's where we live if you have to peg us. we travel in nova. did we live in nova this spring for 3 months? we slept in there - we lived wherever we were. before work started up in nyc we had to fix up the house. but it had no furniture so we stayed in nova in the driveway for almost a month. but sometimes we would go to our home in the city for a few days. so where did we live? 

with our dogs

in the grass

on the street

by the beach

in the lot

at the marina

with a cold beer

and good company. 

up the trail

along the creek

on the slope

down the hill

toward the end

in that spot

in our home

across the bridge. 

it's not for everyone to live in a van for any amount of time. to live on the road. to camp. to travel constantly. each week or every few days. OR to live in a house with a picket fence. to mow a lawn. to live on an island. to live in nyc. to have the same neighbors for 40 years. to live east or west or up or down. we could go on. but how often do we hear: where do you live? and is it ever: what do you live in? where do you sleep? where is your home? who makes it home? why is it home? where did you grow up? i mean. aren't we all still growing up and living each day. year. experience? don't we live everywhere . . .  ? 

another question we get all the time is where would we go? after all the places you've seen, where would you move to? settle down for a bit, you know, after nyc gets old. . .

hah. to buy a boat. that's where. 

get drunk. bear down. and do the nova dance.

love and vengeance. power in association.

/

co-pilot. genius. security system. teacher. best friend. this hug.

genius. 

stubborn. persistent. sweetest.

loyal.

always. hungry. brilliant. 

loyal. 

determined. brilliant. companion

you broke the mold girl

can’ t imagine the last nine years without you

may eighth was this beauty's birthday. it all began with a plane ride. then a house. maine. an apartment. maine. a house. another apartment. maine. another house. road trip. montauk. murphy. road trip. road trip. who knows how many moves and miles. and finally. 

the past fifteen weeks in nova 

from maine down to key west back up the gulf into louisiana to find my heritage up the mississippi into memphis through tennesee the smoky mountains kentucky horse country class five rapids in west virginia and back on the east coast in annappolis maryland into nyc and upstate and yes. that's right. maine for her birthday. 

this photo was taken in myrtle beach. that's me under the wool hat. the camera jonny used was stolen in memphis when nova was broken into while we walked toulouse and murphy to the mississippi riverfront. 

you’re being watched. he said.

highest crime rate in the country.  she said.

the reality of it all was, in fact, dangerous. so we left. sad and disturbed though simultaneously grateful. maybe it’s a matter of perspective or reflection, but what it comes down to is that toulouse. bean. nova. jonny and I are all ok. still get my hugs. still have my art. 

i'm home in nyc for the moment. though technically. i’m not great at being in one place for more than a few days. i do crave my book collection and writing supplies. pencils preferred. also the company of my dogs. if there is no water nearby, not even a creek. i’m generally not at home in the philosophical sense of the interpretation. of course. we could go on and on about the meaning of home.

whether a snapshot reminds me of myrtle beach with toulouse or the violation of nova is up to me. the power of association. art is everywhere. 

i’m not sure what i know.          if anything at all.           but i’m learning. 

so here’s to many more stories. snapshots. poetry. memories and favorite company.

homeiswhereyourdogis

getdrunkbeardownanddothenovadance

inside out. maine

/

self. reflection. family. nova. 15 days in maine

you're not dressed up.

yea i am. as a lumberjack. 

what are you for halloween.

i'm a maina.

                         he laughed. 

it's cold now in the northeast. the above photo is from early september when we spent 15 days in maine. i read an article in downeast magazine about a quiet place with plenty of sandy beaches. indeed. sandy, quiet and breathtaking. and no, i won't tell you where. you'll have to go exploring.

the person behind the lens managed to capture me inside out in this snapshot. borderline complete.

there's something about maine. the sea. the pines. the water. the salt. the pace. 

as the seasons turn and fall settles in i have a tendency to reminisce a little more and sleep a little less. insomnia - my imagination's most beloved and despised companion.

i don't like large groups of people and neither does bean. he liked it here if you can't tell. we camped about 5 miles south and returned a day later before heading north.

the locals came swimming with swim caps in the evening light. others wandered through the tall pines to the coves edge with bottles of beer. one old woman came down in a wheelchair and her friends helped her into the ocean for swim-therapy. we sat with our dogs on the warm rocks drip-drying in the evening sun.

maine.

has a funny way

of invading my soul.

home away from home.

check back for snapshots of this secret spot in another couple days

getdrunkbeardownandexplore