Hey hey mama said the way you move, gon' make you sweat, gon make you groove...
Meet Morgan. Oh, where do I begin to tell you about my Morgan? How far do I back up into the story that began with a very special girly who is no longer with us?
I know- I first have to tell you about the mark Blue left on me. She was a goofy broad, by all accounts. Her musty, riverwater breath and ginormous, gum-revealing smile, and wild, laughing eyes brought Hank and I to life with her antics, in my lavender colored office where I ran a fledgling sleepwear company on Rowena Ave. It was 1999, in Los Feliz, CA, nestled under the Hollywood Hills, where I grew my first personal appreciation for the alpha female personality.
Flash forward to November 2009, and we put our ten year old girly down with cancer. In the most ceremonial and sweet way that we could create, we offered her back to the earth, filled with gratitude for the gifts she'd shared with us. We would never be the same because of one meeting in the park, in the right place, at the right time. She had at least several lives, because even a rattlesnake bite to the nose didn't take her from us in '04. She was a tough bitch, and the most deeply loving one you could ever snuggle up to.
I've been searching the face of every damn stray dog within a hundred mile radius for months looking for her reincarnation. I've been dreaming of her and combing the ads of rescues prepared to travel to find the perfect blend of goofy and instinctually protective, arrogant and humorous.
Enter Morgie Lee. Morgie has big paws to fill, doesn't she?
When I drove home from circle just over a week ago, when the white light of illumination about a difficult subject came pouring into my car windows, the last thing on my mind was Dog. I was surfing the rapture of enlightenment, a much welcomed moment after a particularly transformative, yet illusory week month year. So imagine that I'm talking out loud to myself, and shouting "Of course!" and "Well, duh!" and "Oh my goddess, I'm so grateful for this piece, oh yes, thank you", as I approach the unspectacular dirt road that Ts into my own.
She raised her head up off of her paws to look at me. I pulled into the turn, pressed into the brake, put the passenger window down. "Are you the one?" and our first conversation took place. I got out of the car, walked around to her, she wagged her squiggly butt over and as I squatted down to extend my hand, she bypassed it and put her big, dark nose square into my heart and pushed.
I couldn't even cry at the thought that this was how Blue used to hug me. Her famous Dog Hug. I only laughed because I knew she was meant to be.
Up into the car where she found the ultimate treasure of a few discarded peanut butter pretzels, she made a round ball with her body and stayed low until we got out.
At home.
She's sassy and bossy and has a sly poker face. She hordes toys in her bed, hogs the food, howls when I leave, and chews through electrical cords. She's goofy and loving and gives a soft kiss like she means it. She is grateful. She is a spark of a moment of contrast between the immense light washing over me and her pitch, shadow-black fur.
She's a manifestation of patience, trust and the release of something old from my soul that had been looking for a way out and up, so that something else...something wonderful could come in.
