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

in search of

golden ferns. nova. van life. displacement. insomnia and the unknown.

in search of

we don't always find what we're looking for. we don't always know what it is. . . 

i finally left nyc. spring 2016. no set destination. just out of nyc really. everything we needed in nova. navy just 5 months and of course big bean.

we spent the summer in nova by the ocean in downeast maine. we're still up here. a little apartment above a work shop. 

do i miss the city? yes. do i miss my old life? absolutely. would i go back? i don't know where exactly, to go. or why i always want to go. 

not into commitments or small towns. i find myself in a tiny place reliant on my new job. some days i don't know how i ended up here. others it seems like the perfect place to get back on my feet. and then what? i find a place. a beautiful place with heart and soul and comes my innate desire to run away. i search to fill the empty corners. to find the comfort i had in the past. something about routine makes it feel unattainable. not enough unknown. so I want to move. again. and again. and again. maybe it's waiting around the next corner. the unfamiliar corner. because here. right here. in this little place with big hearts. i think i won't find it. 

get drunk. bear down.

and do the nova dance.

keep searching

'cause they party while we sleep

thoughts on bears for inspiration. imagination. and clarification. 

bear bear. pictured above on the right was the first stuffed bear my dad bought me. into my stroller he went with size enough to hide my infancy. instant love.

corduroy. the other bear above left, came later. he reminded my dad of his own old bear, carried by the arm as a child - crookedly dangling with weighted feet. I did the same for years. 

every dream. every vacation. every sleepover. 

and still, they come on our adventures in nova. sometimes with friends.

i always believed my bears partied while i slept. raided the fridge. painted their faces. danced. filled the bathtub with water - pool party. perhaps they climbed out the window and went exploring. built forts. played cards. took a nap. who knows, maybe now bear bear and corduroy drink wine and philosophize. read my extensive poetry collection. write letters or discuss the fate of the planet. the fate of the bear. and yes. 

                                                                       i still believe it. 

                                                                       or imagine it. or

                                                                       live it. 

and no. it's not about getting tipsy. 'matter of fact it’s quite the opposite. see 2a for misconceptions and bear  here in stories. get drunk. bear down. is well. sort of like . .  get passionate. dive in. get happy. dance away. get creative. go create.

get drunk . bear down . enjoy the ride - ace

'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