Wow so much has happened since I wrote in April! Phoebe the dog is an agility star- super smart, motivated to please, and doing great in our household. In less that a week Dennis and I will be married and headed to Paris for our honeymoon.
Getting married is totally weird. First of all, I thought it was all about the couple getting married, but I see now that was pretty naive. It turns out its like planning a big event for your family and friends who often have their own ideas of what a wedding is or should be. I have been really surprised by some of the people I thought would come that aren’t going to make it, luckily a lot of people have come out of the woodwork to show up. This whole experience has made me re-examine some of the relationships in my life because a lot of them are not what I want them to be. I’ve had a lot of close friends move in the past few years and sadly we aren’t as close, I realize I need to put more effort into finding local supportive friendships with some new folks, and its hard to make new friends at 33 years old. I think running my own business I have often let my relationships take a backseat to work. I’ve gotten a lot of perspective and I know I need to make some changes.
So the wedding is happening this Saturday in Prospect Park at 930am, hopefully it won’t rain! The dogs are a part of the ceremony though we’re pretty sad that we lost our best man Rusty a few weeks ago. He had struggled with his health over the past few years and we finally had to let him go. He was an amazing dog and we miss him terribly. I wrote this poem for him a while back (of course wordpress is messing up the formatting)
Tug of War
What happened to you? Gregarious guy knocking
me aside, running up slippery stairs ebullient, bone
in mouth, hopping on the hairy bed fit for a king,
you allow me in, but not to sleep. Stir morning
wake and all eighty pounds of you bounds down
upon me, sniffing and licking, painful paws digging,
giant head nosing and nudging me to my feet. Big
body barking like a girl, not even a bellow, a shriek.
Pulling me to the park, off leash beseech the squeakiest
ball, so you can feel like you’re a crazy killing machine.
Drop for catch, wait until I bend down to scream-plead
your demands into my panged ears. Once you’ve caught
your kill between big teeth you fake fetch tricking
any empty hand in your lair into and unwitting game
of Tug of War. You won’t let go, after only six years
no more Prospect Park’s green and trees. Your solid
stride scarred and clicking from surgery. A clock
making us all more aware of time and how little
of it there is. We are all going grayer, clinging
to anything solid in this turbulent sea.
Rusty and all the dogs teach me to stay in the day/moment because that’s all we really have and we are lucky to have it. I’m very grateful to have met my match and to be going into this new phase of life with him. More soon about the wedding and our parisian honeymoon!