In Dog We Trust

9-3-15

Hello!

My favorite time of year! Fall, finally here...creeping in slowly, like a fat orange cat after a night out slinking around. First it's a change in the sunlight, somehow clearer and more focused, particularly as the afternoon's shade into evening. The days grow shorter, and a few 'early bloomers' of trees shyly flash their leaves with a forecast a riot of color.

As we made our way home through Ohio a week and a half ago, there were the lone trees with their coats of color already painting them. They looked overdressed, a woman wearing a gaudy outfit in the stuffy drawing-room of the summer season.

The sky is bluer and clearer this time of year. Even the clouds seem fluffier and fuller. Here in the south it's rare for a real cold snap to kick in much before early to mid October, but it does happen, a forecast of chilly nights smelling of smoke and the rich tang of falling leaves...

There is a sadness to this early time of fall that wasn't there in the past. Never will I forget a certain day in early fall fifteen years ago. The sky was at its pluperfect blue, so clear that it seemed unreal. The day had dawned crisp, a little foretaste to whet the appetite of those of us who love everything connected with the season...pumpkins, the changing leaves, the spicy smell of mums on neighbor's porches and at the grocery stores. It was a perfect early fall day. I had taken a small nap (excellent napping weather!) waiting for my husband to come home from night shift at our local hospital.

I remember like a rare mist the merry 'ching' of the bell hung on our kitchen door, as my husband got home from work and called to me. He sat on our living room couch, taking off his shoes and sighing with pleasure as he relaxed. He turned the TV on low, and I remember its gentle murmur in the background, and falling into the in-between land of sleep and awake...Then coming awake as suddenly as though someone had poured ice-water on my head...to a sound I had never heard before or since~ an intake of breath and a gasp of sheer horror~ from my husband who had tuned into FOX news live as the twin towers got hit!

I jumped from the bed and ran stupefied into the living room where Bill sat stone-faced with the remote clutched in his hand. “What?!” I gasped at him. His face turned toward me, and never before or since have I seen such a look...horror, shock and disbelief covered his normally happy countenance. “What?!” I whispered this time, slowly turning to the TV....as Bill woodenly stuttered out the news that our nation was under attack.

We sat there and watched as the horror-show unfolded. I remember Bill holding me as I cried, the tears running down my face as the towers fell and life changed forever. Because it did. Even far away from the murderous carnage...life changed forever.

It was so quiet. Even our dogs sensed the change and were quiet, so quiet when we went out with them, normally boisterous happy Dalmatians. We live in a flight path from our local airport. The planes

had all been grounded. It was quiet. So quiet. Even the whisper of wind through the trees seemed to quell. The bright, bright blue of the skies mocked the knowledge of the horror unfolding a few states away.

In the days following, it was so eerie. Few people went anywhere. They stayed home. No-one wanted to go to a movie, or out to eat. The people seemed to go into early hibernation, a sort of suspended animation. The sussurance of the major interstate that runs through the heart of our city, a constant light murmur that barely registers with anyone...it became quiet...quieter...nearly silent. Nobody wanted to travel. No trucking companies wanted to send their drivers out. No flights left the shut-down airport. Nothing moved. And yet the bright sky and crisp air mocked everything....

That was September 2001.

People get PTSD from shock, either physical, mental or both. Collectively, as a Nation, our country experienced it; from the New Yorkers, Pennsylvanians and people of D.C. who experienced it firsthand, to those of us far removed who inadvertently turned on their TV's and watched the horror first-hand.

Those of you lucky enough to not even be a gleam in your parent's eyes at the time have nothing to compare it to. Unfortunately you know nothing other than the words “terrorist” and the subtle knowledge that people we don't know, a society we have no connection with wish us harm. Wish us harm because...why? Because we think differently from them. Because we are not them. Because we are who we are as a people. Shocking. And so sad.

It is the differences between us that make us human. That's life folks. Diversity. But no matter how different we are, we have more in common than we have different. Do we not love our families, our husbands, children? Sing songs and create great art, appreciate a sunset or embrace the glow of a new day?

I know that this has little to do with a blog about living with a service dog. But it's what is on my mind now, during this crystalline beautiful time of the year that I have always loved. It isn't ruined for me, but the taste of sadness will forever tinge my memories and love of this time. A bit of the sweetness of this time of year cut off forever. Always there will be 'before' and 'after'. After will always come up wanting...

The world lost a great something on a clear September day fifteen years ago. It will take much time and great love to get it back, if we ever can. Perhaps, only time will be the healer. More time than we weak humans who remember 'before' and 'after' will ever count. I pray for that healing every day, but when I remember the pain in the echos of each beautiful autumn that quietly shimmers by...I just don't know.

I've often wrote how innocent and pure our canine friends are. They know nothing of what I've just written. Our dear dog friends of that time have come and gone ahead to whatever awaits those good souls waiting faithfully for us. I often ask why can't humans take a page from our dog buddies and be more like them? People have asked that question through the ages, and no answers yet. Like the bumper sticker “The more I am around people, the more I like my dog” … whomever came up with the pun seems a great sage.

So the year is spins quietly to repose. Frax heaves a great sigh as he intuits even in his sleep my sadness of which I write to you. Appreciate those you love. Hold them close and never forget to tell those close to you how much you love them. Spin in a circle and inhale the crisp scents of fall, appreciate it for the ones who came 'before' and will never get the chances you still have. Hug your dogs dog lovers, and hold them tight.

#fall #autumn #memories #911 #lov