Asheville Feb 2012
I was staying in an eclectic and quaint space in the lower half of a bungalow with a rundown exterior, old furniture stashed in the backyard hugging a small opening that lead to a crawl space that ran the perimeter underneath.
The day was clear and crisp and I left for yoga that night with a skip in my step and a warm coat and hat on as I headed down the street. When I got home I remembered it was Ash Wednesday. I was arguing with my husband about some inane thing.
Before getting off the phone I noticed that Oscar had been out for quite a long time and he wasn’t responding to my voice. I circled the dark yard and noticed that the fence was missing in one spot. Did he get loose? I exited the house and started walking down the street calling his name.
An hour later I was in a panic, calling my husband back. He calmly said check under the house. I leaned down near the opening beneath and called Oscar's name again—nothing. I called the police and told them, “My dog is missing.” They didn’t seem to care. The shelters were closed. “Call in the morning.” Was their response to me. The kind woman in the pick up truck who I hadn’t seen before (and haven’t since) who got me sobbing with her kindness, “I will drive you around so that you can look for him.” My thoughts were running wild: Did someone kidnap him? Did he wiggle out of an opening in the fence and get lose? Was he hit by a car and not yet discovered? Was he dog bait for fighting?
My prayers were unrelenting to Mother Mary, God, and St. Francis. “Please help me find my sweet dog.” In retrospect I think Hanuman the Indian monkey God even showed up in my dreams that night to provide reassurance and assistance. After hours of lying awake I thought to offer up a promise to Mother Mary …’please Mother just let me know where he is…but if you bring him back to me alive then I will stop drinking (alcohol) for the rest of my life.’ Amen.
I fell asleep exhausted. I woke at 5 am the next morning to the most pristine morning. I started to walk around calling Oscar's name. The beautiful stillness and the crisp air so bittersweet in its loveliness, its beauty and silence palatable. I started nailing signs to telephone poles as I softly called his name feeling sad and vulnerable. I drew two tarot cards and got the death and the sun cards. The best and worst cards in the deck. It seemed it could go either way. I waited around until 9a before calling the shelters. “No they hadn’t seen him. Yes they will call me if he shows.” I got off the phone…now what? I then heard what sounded like a whimper. ‘Did I hear something? Could he really be here somewhere?’ Maybe my husband was right maybe he was underneath the house?? I called him at work and he said, “You have to crawl under the house and look for him.” I am terrified of closed spaces and this was a small one.
When I shimmied under the house, I got maybe 10’ in and then was prevented from going further by insulation and a beam that cuts me off. I peered as far as I could but the beam prevented me from seeing much even with a flashlight. I crawled out relieved to be out but frustrated, now what? I called the fire department. ‘Hey I think my dog might be stuck under my house can you help me?’ No they were sorry they don’t help with these types of things. Celeste a bald headed no-nonsense friend of the owner of the home (who was in South America) was covering and listened initially with sympathy as I tearfully told her my dilemma. She then stressed to me that I will be responsible for any damage to the dilapidated house that might be done trying to extricate Oscar, but was sorry to hear. (I felt like saying if the house didn’t have a hole under its foundation this wouldn’t have happened!) She agreed to try to call a few contractors to see if they can help.
One of the contractors miraculously showed up within the hour. Louis was very sympathetic in a non English speaking kind of way. His brown eyes showing intelligence, compassion and concern. He nodded as I mimed what happened. He went around the back of the house and then quickly hurried away from the undesirable hole. He then walked to the other side where the window well was. A tiny space. I wondered why he was looking there? He knocked out the covering and tried to peer in. He looked at me and said that he thought he saw a raccoon. I was wondering dead or alive when we heard a yelp. My goofy Oscar was indeed alive and stuck! Louis finally went around to the back of the house and reluctantly crawled under. I sat on the side looking at the window well space not able to see him but now knowing he was there.
I paused and looked up at the sky and intuitive knew that I needed to start digging in the direction of the noise. I start to reach in the hole where the window well was and my hand got stuck against insulation. I pulled as hard as I could and reams of material start to come out. Finally I saw Oscar. His head was lodged under a beam of wood. He had crawled under the back of the house but could only be accessed from where I was sitting. I shout for Louis and he came over and surveyed the situation as he asked for a shovel. I couldn’t find one so he started to dig Oscar out with his hands. He dug and dug until Oscar was finally able to come out from his stuck locations. Oscar ran out of the hole shaking himself off like nothing had happened. He seemed alittle embarrassed and sheepish. OMG he is fine. I turned around and then experience the greatest joy and feeling of gratitude and then the deepest grief. Oscar was fine but alcohol was now gone from my life forever. The death card and the sun...Now it made sense.
Louis humbly accepted the money I insisted he take. He came in as I offered him water and he hovered in the kitchen for a bit. His nature unhurried and maybe expecting something else? I am so grateful to him but not in that way. He finally leaves smiling and I wonder if I imagined it.
I am exhausted, I am sober. My life changed forever. I had been drinking almost daily since I was 17 years old. Alcohol my friend, my entertainer and lover gone. The only times in my life that I have abstained has been over the Lenten periods. Ironically lent started this day.
I was staying in an eclectic and quaint space in the lower half of a bungalow with a rundown exterior, old furniture stashed in the backyard hugging a small opening that lead to a crawl space that ran the perimeter underneath.
The day was clear and crisp and I left for yoga that night with a skip in my step and a warm coat and hat on as I headed down the street. When I got home I remembered it was Ash Wednesday. I was arguing with my husband about some inane thing.
Before getting off the phone I noticed that Oscar had been out for quite a long time and he wasn’t responding to my voice. I circled the dark yard and noticed that the fence was missing in one spot. Did he get loose? I exited the house and started walking down the street calling his name.
An hour later I was in a panic, calling my husband back. He calmly said check under the house. I leaned down near the opening beneath and called Oscar's name again—nothing. I called the police and told them, “My dog is missing.” They didn’t seem to care. The shelters were closed. “Call in the morning.” Was their response to me. The kind woman in the pick up truck who I hadn’t seen before (and haven’t since) who got me sobbing with her kindness, “I will drive you around so that you can look for him.” My thoughts were running wild: Did someone kidnap him? Did he wiggle out of an opening in the fence and get lose? Was he hit by a car and not yet discovered? Was he dog bait for fighting?
My prayers were unrelenting to Mother Mary, God, and St. Francis. “Please help me find my sweet dog.” In retrospect I think Hanuman the Indian monkey God even showed up in my dreams that night to provide reassurance and assistance. After hours of lying awake I thought to offer up a promise to Mother Mary …’please Mother just let me know where he is…but if you bring him back to me alive then I will stop drinking (alcohol) for the rest of my life.’ Amen.
I fell asleep exhausted. I woke at 5 am the next morning to the most pristine morning. I started to walk around calling Oscar's name. The beautiful stillness and the crisp air so bittersweet in its loveliness, its beauty and silence palatable. I started nailing signs to telephone poles as I softly called his name feeling sad and vulnerable. I drew two tarot cards and got the death and the sun cards. The best and worst cards in the deck. It seemed it could go either way. I waited around until 9a before calling the shelters. “No they hadn’t seen him. Yes they will call me if he shows.” I got off the phone…now what? I then heard what sounded like a whimper. ‘Did I hear something? Could he really be here somewhere?’ Maybe my husband was right maybe he was underneath the house?? I called him at work and he said, “You have to crawl under the house and look for him.” I am terrified of closed spaces and this was a small one.
When I shimmied under the house, I got maybe 10’ in and then was prevented from going further by insulation and a beam that cuts me off. I peered as far as I could but the beam prevented me from seeing much even with a flashlight. I crawled out relieved to be out but frustrated, now what? I called the fire department. ‘Hey I think my dog might be stuck under my house can you help me?’ No they were sorry they don’t help with these types of things. Celeste a bald headed no-nonsense friend of the owner of the home (who was in South America) was covering and listened initially with sympathy as I tearfully told her my dilemma. She then stressed to me that I will be responsible for any damage to the dilapidated house that might be done trying to extricate Oscar, but was sorry to hear. (I felt like saying if the house didn’t have a hole under its foundation this wouldn’t have happened!) She agreed to try to call a few contractors to see if they can help.
One of the contractors miraculously showed up within the hour. Louis was very sympathetic in a non English speaking kind of way. His brown eyes showing intelligence, compassion and concern. He nodded as I mimed what happened. He went around the back of the house and then quickly hurried away from the undesirable hole. He then walked to the other side where the window well was. A tiny space. I wondered why he was looking there? He knocked out the covering and tried to peer in. He looked at me and said that he thought he saw a raccoon. I was wondering dead or alive when we heard a yelp. My goofy Oscar was indeed alive and stuck! Louis finally went around to the back of the house and reluctantly crawled under. I sat on the side looking at the window well space not able to see him but now knowing he was there.
I paused and looked up at the sky and intuitive knew that I needed to start digging in the direction of the noise. I start to reach in the hole where the window well was and my hand got stuck against insulation. I pulled as hard as I could and reams of material start to come out. Finally I saw Oscar. His head was lodged under a beam of wood. He had crawled under the back of the house but could only be accessed from where I was sitting. I shout for Louis and he came over and surveyed the situation as he asked for a shovel. I couldn’t find one so he started to dig Oscar out with his hands. He dug and dug until Oscar was finally able to come out from his stuck locations. Oscar ran out of the hole shaking himself off like nothing had happened. He seemed alittle embarrassed and sheepish. OMG he is fine. I turned around and then experience the greatest joy and feeling of gratitude and then the deepest grief. Oscar was fine but alcohol was now gone from my life forever. The death card and the sun...Now it made sense.
Louis humbly accepted the money I insisted he take. He came in as I offered him water and he hovered in the kitchen for a bit. His nature unhurried and maybe expecting something else? I am so grateful to him but not in that way. He finally leaves smiling and I wonder if I imagined it.
I am exhausted, I am sober. My life changed forever. I had been drinking almost daily since I was 17 years old. Alcohol my friend, my entertainer and lover gone. The only times in my life that I have abstained has been over the Lenten periods. Ironically lent started this day.
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